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March 27, 2015
The place sits in the middle of an old stip mall. Window marquees advertising liquor and cigarettes. The door has seen many seasons, rusted metal and glass. A sales counter ran the length of the store, and racks stocked with specialty beer and wine went back to a wall of coolers. Dillon decided on a 6 pack of Belles, Cream Soda flavored dark ale, wincing at the orange price tag. Walking back toward the counter, he saw the guy who stopped texting him. His personality wrapped tightly within his jacket. Dillon hid behind the paper towels until he was gone.