“Thirty on pump three.” She pushed the soda and chocolate across the counter. The guy looked at her as if she were some kind of crazy woman.
“Uh, is everything okay?” He bagged her sustenance and monitored her as he worked the register.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Rose thought she’d wiped all the mascara from her face when she’d crossed into Virginia but maybe she’d missed some.
The guy handed her the change and stepped back.
“Your face is all red and splotchy and you have black lines running down your face.”
He gestured at her body. “You’re wearing a big white wedding dress. In a gas station.”
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