The oldtimers are sitting around the woodstove — not the little one in Gosselin's office but the big one in the store itself — while the snow pelts down outside. He could still see the thing inside, thrashing and shuffling, dining on the driver. He stood quiet and muttering for a moment or so, looking frail under the cloudy sky and seemingly buffeted by every gust of wind. ' 'Not even out here in West Overshoe?' 'Later.
and then it's back to the food. 'What'd you say, smartass? You say something?' 'Just wondering if you got your share of that girl — you know, the one Frankie broke in. The hunters had been in an old Chevy pickup, and when they tried to drive closer for a better look, their engine had died. Only the smell on top wasn't sulfur but ether.
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