Snow had fallen through the night, blanketing the mountains with an inch or more of glistening white. It was the kind of day best spent at home, but an appointment required that I drive to town.
I stopped at a gas station along the way. The station is near the corner of where my parents almost bought a house and not too far from where they actually did. It's open most hours of the night, perhaps even all 24 of the day, and is thus one of my regular stops.
A young man wearing an oversized black jacket and black knit hat pulled tight over his heat was standing directly inside the store's double doors, talking on his cell phone, as a middle-aged, female attendant mopped up melted snow from entryway. I grabbed some Reese's Cups and went to the counter to pay.
The attendant put her mop and bucket away, came to the register, opened the drawer, and began to count her cash. There wasn't much there—a twenty or two and a dozen one dollar bills for which she ran a receipt that she…
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