“Who are you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Who are you?”
Christine looked around, trying to garner some support from the people standing in line behind her and trying to assess whether everybody was in on the prank. The other people looked at her with the indifferent, somewhat aggravated stare we reserve for strangers who impose on our time or patience.
It was not a joke and the atmosphere in the lobby had started to feel a little tense. An undercurrent of sarcasm tried to find its way out of her mind and offer some commentary, but she decided it was not worth the trouble and snuffed it with a deep cleansing breath.
💡
Find this story and more in The Margins.
