“Tell your dad,” Marcus said, “the window’s not so bad from up here.”
Low. To her, the drive-thru window was a counter you had to stoop for. To Marcus, it had always been a wall you reached up to touch. drive thru window height
That explanation lasted about fifteen years. “Tell your dad,” Marcus said, “the window’s not
He didn’t measure the window again. It wasn’t forty-two inches, or low, or high. It was just a hole in the wall. And every night, someone new would pull up and teach him what the world looked like from their seat. “Tell your dad
“Why’s it so tall?” he asked, craning his neck.
“Sorry,” she said. “The suspension on this thing is shot. Sits even lower than stock.”