SEVENTY-FIVE

Jared stood behind the sign and waited. Cars passed without stopping, and he was glad. He wanted to avoid eye contact, and human contact, at all costs. This was the most humiliating part of visiting. No one else thought so. But consumption was a necessary part of the refugee life.

“Here ya go,” said the woman. She held out an apple and a dollar. Jared of Jupiter hated apples. They’re worthless.

The dollar tasted magnificent.

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