Johnny, Hit and Run

Austin, Texas, is hot in the summer. I had nowhere else to go. Everything I owned was packed in my Hyundai. It was too tight and hard to breathe, so I pulled over on the Drag to get some air.

“Yer the prettiest girl I’ve seen all day,” you hollered from your spot on the sidewalk.

I moved closer, my scars throbbing sloppily under your stare.

“Pretty, pretty, pretty girl,” you cooed, your voice a slush of alcohol and lust.

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