Hudson, standing at the register, digging into his pockets. My stomach leaped to my throat, hiding beside my heart as my feet melded to the It costs to punch you in the throat and I love free Shit Shirt. Every thought inside my head vanished like a wisp of smoke except for one—why? It had been over two weeks since I last saw him. I hadn’t even thought of him. So why did he have this effect on me?

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A It costs to punch you in the throat and I love free Shit Shirt fresh cup of coffee sat between him and the cashier. He pulled his hands free from his pockets, empty. “I must have forgotten my wallet. The cashier just stared at him. I’d seen her in a there a time or two. Always with smudged eyeliner and tired eyes. I didn’t take her for much of a talker. Maybe she was sick of words. Maybe they brought her no comfort; therefore, there was no need to engage in using them.