We grabbed burgers on the walk to the station. The streets were thronged with people and traffic was heavy. We got a few shouts and wolf whistles from blokes in passing cars; four twenty something girls in short skirts, we expected it. I swallowed the last mouthful of my quarterpounder as we approached the station, screwed the wrapper into a ball and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin.
Then we went inside and headed for the platform to catch our train.
22nd place (out of 36) in the 11th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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