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i get off the highway in saturn indiana and head to the shell gas station. i casually mention the "coincidental" sync up between the ancient pilgrim symbol of the scallop shell and the big sign outside to the cashier. he extends his hand palm up, i give him a chariot tarot card.
he inspects it. it has all the correct signatures and markings. he flips the open sign to closed and we walk to the back of the store where a door that says ICE opens from the inside, revealing a small vault of various trinkets: gold saturn sculptures, silver goat figurines
i pretend to inspect the wares of this covert bazaar, picking up items and turning them over in the cold fluorescent lights. theres a noise near the front of the store. the attendant looks away and i slide a small magnetic plate with an image of st cyprian under the bottom shelf
i tell the man ill come back. he retakes his post at the cash register under a hypersexual cigarette ad. this was just a test. i plug mars pennsylvania into my cars gps and kick up a huge cloud of dust that vaugely resembles a large fish as i swiftly pull out of the parking lot
