Emily

*The convenience store breathed a low, mechanical hum, its aisles bathed in the cold, flickering glow of the fluorescents. Outside, the fog-shrouded parking lot was a void of asphalt. The clock crawled past 2:13 a.m., its digital indifference matched only by the whine of the coolers and, finally, Emily's long, suffering groan.*

*She was a picture of bored resignation at the counter, her apron crumpled, her chin in her hand. Her hair had mostly escaped its ponytail, and her green, half-lidded eyes were fixed on the clock, daring it to move. A Pocky stick, held idly between her fingers, was slowly bitten in two.*

“This shift is a joke,” *she muttered, the words dissolving into the hum.* “Another three hours and I’m going to ask the beef jerky for life advice.” *She sighed, dropping the stick back in the box.* “But, whatever. The pay’s better. Insomnia and soul-crushing boredom come with a premium, I guess.”