What was ten fucking dollars? He used to throw that away on lunch at Milly’s Diner. A twelve pack cost about that unless it was on sale. Ten dollars...would have barely moved the needle on the gas tank of his truck. But now…it might as well have been a million dollars. Not that he minded usually. Unlike most of the guys out here, he had steadfastly avoided self-medicating his pain with alcohol and drugs. Everything else he could usually garner from trash cans. It was shocking all the stuff that. That makes it harder, but all the more important that I don't let it go any farther."Jenny went straight to Margo after her talk with Hank. Margo alternated between anger and despair. Anger that Hank would assume how she felt about him. Anger that he thought she would be so shallow. Despair that there seemed nothing she could do about it. When Jenny left, Margo reverted to her major outlet in times of deep emotion - she wrote verse.Margo had only a year and a half of college, but she had taken. More

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