City Limits by Hannah Smart
“They’re saying it hurt a lot.” “Well, yeah. Dying tends to do that.” “But this wasn’t, like, a typical death.” Four people sit at the table next to mine—two men and two women. One woman is blonde; the other is brunette. The guy talking has black hair gelled straight backwards. The diner loudspeakers blare some decade-old Taylor Swift tune. “Dumb Teenager Dies in Car Crash,” the blonde says, making flashing motions with her hands to signify BREAKING NEWS. “More at eight.” “Are we sure it was a car crash?”—the other guy. His face is that of someone who takes steroids…