>The early winter snow fell as large flakes, melting on the vastness of the store's parking lot. She turned the key in the lock and walked toward her car, parked under a lot light. "It's not your fault!" a man shouted from the edge of the forest. "Oh man, sounds like your engine won't turn over. Let me he you with that." He was repulsive. Tall and skinny, he emerged from the woods wearing nothing but a mesh jacket and Dickie's pants, along with surprisingly clean Jorndqn 23 sneakers. >It's cold out here Miss. I can help you She was terrified. He smoked his cigarette and drank his cold coffee.. >Sometimes engines act weird, you need to warm them up first, mannn, She held her purse tightly, as this strange abomination approached. >I'll help you out. Let me just take a look at the engine His teeth were rotted away >looks like a sparkplug Miss, I hope you get home alright, it sure is cold She drove away. And he was left behind.