Guilt

By: Alexis McGuinness

He looked harried, piling a chocolate bar, a bag of chips and an iced tea onto the counter. She leaned forward, angling her body so as to see around the next customer in line. The cashier perkily counted change for each person presenting their drugs of choice: cookies, alcohol, nicotine. She watched the man collect his fixes and shove them in his bag propped on the counter. She thought he used his broad back to shield his choices from her. Paying for her water, she turned in his direction, “Have a good night.” He frowned as he slunk away.

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