Mission Accomplished
The Wawa parking lot was mostly empty that late spring morning in Fort Washington when Austin and I, two high school freshmen, walked from his house in Ambler to buy two grams of pot.
Exact Change
Jack dreamed that he worked the night shift of a toll booth. A car pulled up to his plastic window. The indifferent, faceless driver handed him a fifty-dollar bill. Cars quickly lined up as Jack began counting out change.