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When I reached the register, I tried to smile at the young cashier. He looked exhausted, like he’d rather be absolutely anywhere else. I placed my items on the belt and slid my card through the reader.
Beep.
My stomach did a flip because that had bever happened before.
Maybe the pension deposit hadn’t cleared yet, I thought.
Maybe I’d miscalculated after paying the electric bill last week.
I tried again, my hand shaking slightly.
The same result.
“Um, could you try one more time?” I asked the cashier.
Behind me, a man groaned loudly. “Oh, for God’s sake. What is this, a charity line?”
I mumbled an apology and fumbled with the card, my hands trembling now.
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