“Hey man,” he said.
The cashier — Peter, by the name tag — stared at him with a dull look, comically sullen.
“Sorry,” he continued. “Quick question. Do you know anything about these signs we’ve been seeing?”
Peter sneered at him and rolled his eyes.
“You’re talking about the miracle signs. Everyone asks me about that. Those signs are old as f**k, dude. Respectfully.”
George shrugged.
“Just curious. Do you know if it’s a church thing, or...?”
Peter checked over his shoulder for the other employees. Everyone was absorbed in their tasks. A woman in a grey polo fiddled with the fryer, scribbling on a clipboard. He leaned forward across the counter and motioned George to come closer.
“Alright,” he whispered. “I’m from a town not too far from here. We used to go to that spot on a dare in
