Arthur cleared his throat—a sound like grinding gravel. "I... I forgot my wallet."
"Consider it a 'get well soon' gift," she said, sliding the receipt toward him. "Just make sure you actually the next bag yourself."
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
"That'll be four-fifty," the cashier said, not looking up from her phone.
"Just on," he whispered to his own ragged throat. "Almost there." Arthur cleared his throat—a sound like grinding gravel
The cashier looked at his pale face and the desperate way he was gripping the bag. She sighed, pulled a five-dollar bill from her own pocket, and swiped it through the register.
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. "Just make sure you actually the next bag yourself
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.