Soundtrack to a Breakup
The coffee was cold. The parking lot had a broken light near the exit that hadn't worked since September. Tess O'Brien sat in her Honda Civic with the engine off and the heater on, watching the 7-Eleven sign flicker like a dying firefly across the street. Her phone buzzed. Another debt collector. Another reminder that she was thirty-two years old and working a job that paid $8.45 an hour and...
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