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(Un)Fortunate Meetings

by Sam DeCuicies

     The darkness of night had subsided and he could see the sun rising over the horizon. The road before him seemed to go on forever, a mountain in the distance looming over the small town he was approaching. Ansel tried again to fiddle with the radio, but he couldn't find a signal for any station. He sighed, forced to keep driving in silence. He spotted a gas station coming up along the road, and with a glance at the car's tank, Ansel figured he could use a stop. He pulled in next to one of the pumps, taking the keys out of the ignition and exiting the car. A man with a cowboy hat and a toothpick hanging out of his mouth nodded to him, and Ansel nodded back.
     After hooking the car up to the pump, he opened up the trunk. Several duffel bags were currently hidden there, and Ansel glanced around to make sure no one was looking his way before unzipping one and retrieving away of twenty dollar bills. He placed them in the pocket of his jeans to take with him …

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