From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
The pump clicking shut at $2.27 a gallon makes my stomach churn, especially with the dollar feeling so worthless lately. I adjust my low-rise denim jeans and pull my synthetic fleece hoodie tighter against the autumn breeze, trying to ignore the sketchy dudes loitering by the payphone. My thumb flicked across the glass screen of my new iPhone, the smooth, cold surface feeling fragile between my trembling fingers. If this currency keeps dropping, I won't even be able to afford the bread in my passenger seat tomorrow.