Post by Deleted on Feb 14, 2017 15:44:33 GMT -5
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink.
Noah tapped one of his metal fingers on the counter of the usher’s table at the restaurant he worked at. He was anxious beyond belief. He needed release. But he was stuck seating people for another five, painful minutes. Longest five minutes ever.
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink.
It was an odd time of day, but he was already in overtime. He took all the overtime he could get. He was going to be a father and he had to put food on the table. Pretty much all he could afford after the necessary purchase of crib and changing table and diapers and clothes and-…
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink.
He’d passed his exam to get into law school. There was another bill. He was still on the fence if he could at this time. He hadn’t told Jill he even passed. He knew what she would say. Of course he should do it. It was his passion. It was his aspiration in life. He wanted to be a lawyer. He wanted to work his way up to the judge’s bench. But his wife was pregnant and the medical bills were heaping high from the complications. Nurse visits, check-ups, ambrosia, you name it. It wasn’t free. Denarii didn’t grow on trees. At least, not this side of Olympus itself. He’d have to win the lottery. And there was no lottery here!
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink.
He checked his watch. Two minutes past time to leave. Halleluiah! He looked desperately around, only to find his relief man chatting it up with a coworker. He scowled and whistled. Martin looked over and noticed the visual daggers being shot at him. He waved and kept talking. Noah resisted the urge to flip him off. He needed this job.
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink.
Finally, a solid five minutes later, the lazy kid came over. Noah ignored him as he stalked away to the back to get his stuff. He used his flesh hand to jab his number into the machine to clock out. He knew himself well enough to know not to use the metal one. At this level of agitation, he was liable to forget his strength and break the machine. He grabbed his backpack from the lockers and shouldered it, heading out the employee entrance in back into an alley that opened up into the main street. The smell of flowers hit him like a brick wall. Ugh gods, Valentine’s Day. As if the throngs of couples coming into the restaurant weren’t bad enough, someone had set up a flower stall right outside the entrance to lure more business! He grumbled as he passed. He felt awful. He’d written his wife a letter for the occasion. A letter. No flower, no chocolate, no teddy bear. A letter. On plain lined paper. Sure, he poured his heart out in it. Sure, he was going to make her dinner. The only candles they had were for emergency use, so no candles, but… dinner counted, right? He sighed. He was a terrible husband. He kicked a loose stone as he passed. Terrible.
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