Prayers On Fire
"What kind of cigarettes can I get with this?" The dirty change hit the metal tray below the separating plexiglass shield with a piercing clang. Nathan shuddered at the sight of the woman; loose leathery skin, faded eyes, hair like straw dry enough to be set ablaze. Her mouth was open and she was missing at least three teeth. He looked down in the tray to see an assortment of dimes, nickels, and pennies. Not even a fucking quarter, he thought. And he hated when people didn't even have the...