PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Claire Fuller
He maneuvered quietly, willing her not to awake.
“Goddamit, Gil, you just can’t let me sleep in, can you! Go make the coffee!”
Gil cringed, knowing he’d suffer castigation until he got outside of the front door.
Chill December morning brought frosted breath, windshield scraping, and stinging bare hands. The old Ford’s heater had given up long ago.
Two miles later he rolled up to PitStop; his means of making a living. Yet it was much more than income. It was Gil’s social lifeline; his man cave of refuge.
Wednesday’s city inspection was PitStop’s last chance before being condemned.
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