text: 'No.' I couldn't have thought of a better word to say. 1,200 words a middle class child is exposed to. I probably knew about as many curse words at that point, none quite equal to the weight of anger I willingly held onto. It was so impossibly simple. Just claim the consonant and the vowel. Be done with it. Pack up and go home. 'No.' The more frustrated I became the more powerful the world felt in my mouth. Why couldn't I just say it? Was I too proud? The entire reason I was in this position was because I didn't say anything. I look down at the cloth in my hand. Damp and dishevelled, I should go into the back and get a fresh one to mess. Or maybe i'll wait until no one is at the counter. There it is again, that fucking word. Why is it when you've been backed into a corner the worst decision is always made? Maybe this time it'll be different. I hook a stray hair behind my ear. Deep breaths. 'So you can close up tonight?' This is it. Just do it. A pulse. An echo. A single beat. This could be the turning point of your very life. 'Yeah, no worries.' Fuck.