could quiet the static buzzing inside my skull everytime I shut my eyes .
I turned a corner into the empty gas station , the glow of the neon sign " Thank Heaven For 7-Eleven " illuminated the first people of the night . A shoeless woman swayed back and forth on the curb , her knees covered in dirt , toes curled around loose gravel stones , her skirt hiked up and eyes frantic . “ He ’ s coming , he ’ s gonna getchhhha ,” she wailed . Behind her unfazed were two men : one waltzing across the sidewalk in search of cigarette butts , the other flicking his zippo , again , and again , cackling under a starless congested sky . This parking lot was Ground Zero for the forgotten ones , glowing mystical in their drug induced state , one foot in this reality , the other in fog . I stared down at my shoes and pushed open the door . One last look back at her and she was turned around staring right at me . Sunken cheeks , wide eyes and black teeth , “ He ’ s coming , he ’ s gonna getchhhha .”
It was at the cash register , after handing over a $ 10 bill for a Reese ' s Pieces and a Bingo card , when I heard the sirens wail . “ I ’ m surprised you ’ re out tonight ,” the cashier busied herself with my change when she spoke .
I leaned into the wall of plexiglass , “ What do you mean ?” “ There ’ s been a leak at the plants . Said we ’ re supposed to stay inside .” I nodded to the door , “ They ' re outside .” She scoffed , as if ' they ' were simply shadows who put quarters into broken pay phones .
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