1.9.4
There was nothing but the time transposed in parallax atop the empty blaze of the flat, white-hot sun.
There was nothing but the time transposed in parallax atop the empty blaze of the flat, white-hot sun.
Her hands reached to be touched back through the waxy windshield, corners rounded over and one red eye looking back, winking.
Sighing, she pushed the hot air ballooning in her chest back against the cool, artificial breeze.
Evelyn parked the car in the driveway and let the engine burn and spin while it blew cold air on her furrowed face, wrinkles levitating from the car hood to beneath her eyes.
Penny swiped and clocked out at 7:05, leaving her boss and his-self to the remainder of closing.
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