Philadelphia, PA – Volume 1.8

What the fuck is that sound?

DING

Tim took a quick peek down at his watch. 11:58 am.

Almost noon. High noon.

DING

He had gotten on to the roof of Gran’s house and walked across the roof of the rowhomes until he got to the far end of the block. There was a Shell station there that kept groceries. It was where he bought his noodles and canned goods and occasional Hustler.

Ah magazine pornography – a dying art form. Oh umm dead now I guess…

Tim could see four or five figures shambling around the gas pumps. One would occasionally step on the bell wire and DING

Funny. I bought stuff at this gas station for the past few years and never really noticed that dinging sound.

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