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May 4, 2011
May dropped a dozen bottles of aspirin onto the pale linoleum, reacting to the doorbell.
Goddamnit May, can you answer that please? Clinton said from the next aisle.
We're getting a delivery at this hour? May asked rhetorically, playing into her manager's annoyance.
I thought I told them we're no longer accepting deliveries until 6am, Clinton mumbled as May headed for the fire door. She popped it open, but no one was there. Rain splattered ominously onto the fresh asphalt. The smell of fish permeated the warm air.
Clinton? May asked, not so rhetorically this time.