There was a small town about two miles away. She smiled to herself as she called it a town. It was a company town for the small mine A dozen houses an... not more than sixty people total. The sort of small mining town that stereotyped the Appalachian mines. One small company store where people bought almost everything they needed – or could afford, with not a lot of variety or choices, but enough to get by. Then, when she was five the mine had closed. Not all at once, but over several months the. Before I could answer, I heard her mutter under her breath; “Great, I get dumped by my fiancé, fired from my job, miss my early flight then get bumped from the next, and now I run over some poor dumb asshole that had nothing to do with my shitty week.”“Look, miss, I did not move into your way, I was not even in the path to the parking garage; you have no reason to call me an asshole.”The cab I called arrived and I got in and told him where I was headed. I went home and got a beer from the. More

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