Short Story: Saved

Previously published in "What Sort of Fuckery is This?" by Devil’s Party Press Anthology, 2020

A man at the gas station on I25 at Fort Collins, a barren strip of highway with nothing to block the empty horizon, approached me as an easy catch. I’d been staring at the lures and deciding what to do with myself that evening, waiting as the pills kicked in. February is such a dead time. I said, I ain’t got no gear. He said he’d take care of that, and he patted his pockets. I had nothing to lose. No one to lose me. I nodded.