James took a towel from underneath the counter, walking up to the front window to clean it. He saw a black van blocking the alleyway down the street, but didn't think anything of it, wiping the dust from the windowsill and returning behind the cold counter as a customer walked inside.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I get started for you?” he chimed pleasantly, bearing a slightly bored expression.

He got a flash of the black van in his vision, and his heart jolted. Glancing out the window again nervously, he silently hoped that it was just an overreaction from anxiety.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” he looked back up at the sharply-dressed man. 

“I said I'll have a number 5 please. 6 inch. Lot on your mind, son?” the man joked, to which James didn't respond.