Do I want to kill her? Is that what this is?

"Cash or card?" Linda says, not looking at me.

"Cash, please."

"That'll be $2.50."

I put $3 on the counter, looking her right in the eyes. Dark, tired, double-lidded. Still not meeting mine.

From the cash register she extracts a coin. "Your change." I stretch out my hand to receive the moment I was waiting for: the press of cool metal, her dry fingertips brushing against my palm. I shiver.

"Thanks."

"Have a good day."

I step away from the counter, then stop. Slowly, I reach into my pocket.