Vignette, junked

One of them rose out the passenger side, measured steps took him inside the house. The other stalled in the driver's seat. Both wore black t-shirts, hiking boots, blue Dickies, close shaved hair. Looking on them saw hard looks, but those weren't hard looks they gave, trying. They were young. In short time the white Lincoln Town Car backed readily out the driveway, then pulled less readily up the street trailing a scent of stale cigarette smoke and car freshener like words in a goodbye letter between teenagers.