Arthur popped a drop into his mouth immediately. The cooling menthol was instant heaven. "Thank you," he managed to croak, finally finding a bit of peace in the quiet hum of the night.
He froze, clutching the bag. He looked at the cashier, then at the exit, then back at the cough drops. His throat gave a rebellious, jagged twitch. He couldn't leave without them, but he couldn't pay. "Sir?" the cashier prompted, finally looking up.
The fluorescent lights of the 24-hour pharmacy hummed in a way that made Arthur’s throbbing headache even worse. He stood in the "Cold & Flu" aisle, his hand trembling as he reached for a bag of honey-lemon lozenges. hold cough drops buy
"Consider it a 'get well soon' gift," she said, sliding the receipt toward him. "Just make sure you actually the next bag yourself."
"Just on," he whispered to his own ragged throat. "Almost there." Arthur popped a drop into his mouth immediately
He had been nursing this scratchy irritation since his morning meeting, but by 9:00 PM, it had evolved into a full-blown cactus-swallowing sensation. He grabbed the bag—the last one on the shelf—and shuffled toward the checkout.
Arthur reached into his pocket to his relief, but his fingers met nothing but lint. He checked the other pocket. Empty. His wallet was sitting on his bedside table next to a half-empty glass of water. He froze, clutching the bag
Arthur cleared his throat—a sound like grinding gravel. "I... I forgot my wallet."