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Delay
"Come on, come on," Mark muttered under his breath, his eyes glued to the digital clock above the convenience store counter. The glowing red numbers ticked away the seconds with a cruel, unrelenting pace. 3:59 AM. He had exactly one minute to spare. One minute until the bus that could potentially change his life was scheduled to arrive. "Hurry it up, will ya?" he snapped at the cashier, a young college student with bleary eyes and a mess of unruly hair. She looked up from her textbook, startled, and hastily scanned his items. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, her voice thick with sleep. "It's just that no one's ever here at this time." "Well, I am," Mark said, his voice sharp as the edge of the knife he kept hidden in his boot. "Now, can I pay?" The cashier nodded, her cheeks flushing a shade of pink that matched the stale donuts in the display case. She quickly rang up his purchase: a pack of gum and a bottle of water....
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