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Peaches, stone free and sweet.
That’s what the sign in the store window read. But the picture above the sign was of three very young women wearing very little clothing.
It looked like a grocery store, the front window spanning more than three-quarters of the storefront, except the glass was heavily tinted blue, and there was nothing in the barely visible display case.
Max went inside. It was a grocery store. There was indeed a bin of peaches very near the front, the fruit large and inviting. Max took a single peach to the checkout counter. The clerk was not young, provocatively dressed, or even female. His bushy eyebrows held more black than the thin thatch on his head, and the deep V of the brows underlined two furrows in his forehead as he eyed Max’s purchase. Stubby fingers poked
