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A Drive Up The Coast

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Past Gilman, I pull in for gas. I slide my card and punch buttons, straining to read in the glare. "Please see the attendant." Of fucking course. I open the door to an room shelved with uneatable crap. "Hello?" She pops up behind the counter. Half-buzzed hard red hair, barred nips under a tight white tank.  Masked, we both stare, hungers recognized. "Passing through?" "No real hurry."

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