to be out of bed, chris has decided, is a mistake. he’s fighting a cold  ---  or whatever else is capable of rendering his lungs useless  ---  and out of smokes, which is what brings him here. a convenience store at six in the morning.

he’s miserable. and wearing pajamas under his jacket.

         ‘ it’s fucking --- ’ hey, stranger, there’s no need to listen to this sad, scratchy-voiced man. ‘ --- cold in here, isn’t it? ’