As Aby approached the kiosk, she was so focussed on keeping the gas and brake pedals straight that she almost forgot to cover her gills. This was something that Pabby had repeatedly and emphatically stressed. Looking around, she found nothing that would suffice and resorted to pulling her T-shirt up and over her mouth. There was little she could do about her green skin. A rectangle of paper, which Pabby had told her was called a parking stub, was in the left hand corner of the dash. Rolling down the window, Aby stopped and held out the stub. She kept her eyes down but she needn’t have, as the cashier didn’t even look up.