3:10 to Ingoldmells, Chapter Three
Flashsatsumas had at least had the foresight to bring an emergency medical kit. Having groped his way deliriously to it along the forecourt he’d now thrown open the small satchel and was treating himself, in both senses of the word. So Maureen sat and watched bemused, as far above her head a plastic automaton contorted hugely in some sort of bid to acclimatise itself to existence, while her friend in his tangerine rubber sundress shovelled down slices of death-by-chocolate one after another.
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