Ana Ban

“You’re fast. Like, inhumanly fast,” I hissed at him, ripping open a box of Jelly Belly’s.
“Keep your voice down,” he admonished me, scooping up bags of gummies to slide onto pegs.
“My voice is down,” I shot back in a harsh whisper. “And you’re avoiding.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that when you could have been in shock.”
“I’m fine,” I told him quietly, the rage slowly escaping. “But, I want answers.”
He sighed, leaning his head briefly against the metal shelf. “This is not the place.”
Pausing for a moment to take in my surroundings, a laugh bubbled up, catching us both by surprise. Sobering immediately, I shot him a sharp look.
“Name the right place, then. We’re going to have a real talk.”
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and I realized he was as riled up as I was.
“After work,” he finally responded, spinning on a heal to exit the aisle, leaving a half empty box of skittles in his wake.”
― Ana Ban, Night Shift