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There’s a little girl with chocolate smeared around her mouth and drip stains on her white blouse. She holds the hand of a diapered boy with fuzzy hair, who rubs his eyes with a tiny fist. I’m beyond reacting. What the fuck more could possibly happen today? The man shifts anxiously and says, “Um, we just moved here today, and there’s a tree down in front of the door. Wondering if one music cd production of y’all wouldn’t music cd production mind giving me a hand with it?” I met Al’s eyes and stared at music cd production him for a long time. He nodded at me slowly and lifted his head toward the truck. Then he smiled and said, “The point, son, is that they went.” Then, turning, he walked around the corner of the 7-Eleven. I nodded uncertainly at the man. He grinned in relief and said, “Thank you, sir.”
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