Edith’s Diner was the kind of place that slow-cooked their sauce and baked pasta dishes in ceramic crockery. Truckers, vacationing families, regulars, and the lost few who needed a hot meal and had nowhere else to go wound up at Edith’s.
Smith was one of those few.
A fic with truck stop hookers and angst.
CW: Sex Work, Miscommunication, Lying, Angst, mention of visiting a health clinic/being aware of sexually transmitted infections and HIV; mention of drinking
If I need to tag something else, let me know.