The act leaves him counting the paper and coins pressed into his palm, that he must spend at a different store. Even though most no longer have the tape for their security cameras, he feels safer that way.
The act doesn’t change. Come on, come outside. There’s something cool to see. Air hockey. Arcade cabinets. In the poorer towns, a promise of food. When he was growing up there were words for men like him. Strangers, he recalls. How little changes. How everything changes.
He thought the amount would have taken a toll on him by now, but he had found his peace. If he refuses, he will be the next one hooded. Put in the van. All monsters have to come to terms with what they are sooner or later.