Flight

Jeannie sorted through her change purse, counting out nickels and pennies to pay for the milk.

She would have rather had a Yoo-hoo but remembered all those School House Rock songs about nutrition.

Funny how things can get stuck in your head.

She had just enough, with three cents over.

The man behind the counter smiled.

“You have twigs in your hair,” he said.

He pushed a key across the counter.

“There’s a restroom around back if you need it.”

Jeannie picked up the milk and left.

She walked down the highway, brushing her hair with her fingers, drinking milk.

 

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