Eventually, Paula leaves and I'm there next to her, joined in the holy union of our plastic gloves, making sandwiches for people and only being asked if we were new three or four times. During the breaks we sit outside on the curb, far away from the dumpsters, talking. She sits with her back to the trashcan, smoking cigarettes while I stare out at the highway. Moments like these seem so unimportant while you're on the curb. I start to feel like my only purposes on this Earth are to watch the cars zip by and to smell her cigarette smoke.
Storm clouds begin to form.
We won't get much more business tonight. Out of nowhere Keri scrunches next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. If I'm bothering you, feel free to smack me. The lump in my throat manifests itself as words. You aren't bothering me.