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While the rest of the world was just now cracking its eyes open and crawling out of bed to take a piss, Orren had been up for hours. He'd gone into work last night around 5pm. He was scheduled to go home at five in the morning, but his relief called in sick and his manager couldn't be bothered to find anyone else to take over. Orren didn't particularly mind, though. It wasn't like he had plans. He hadn't had plans in...god, [i]so long[/i].

The morning rush at the 24 hour corner store mostly consisted of little old ladies buying cat food and meager groceries, hasty commuters on their way to work, and the occasional cop. Being that this little convenient store was one of the few places open 24 hours in town, it was a hot spot for the local police. Although, they never seemed to be there when Orren actually needed them. He'd been robbed at least four times in the past six months, and may have lost count. A couple times the robber had been armed, once it had been a drunk, and once was a man who only wanted a pack of baseball cards and a bottle of lube...Orren wasn't there to judge. To be honest, the robberies didn't really get to him. Few things did these days. Most of his time at work was spent sitting behind the front counter, reading a bargain bin novel, or staring vacantly into space.  

Today was no different. Orren had just rang up a man buying a pack of nicotine gum and three cases of beer when a somewhat familiar face entered the store. Wasn't that guy in his graduating class? What was his name...Cameron? No, that wasn't right. Orren watched passively as the familiar stranger walked back to the pharmacy at the back of the store, made a purchase, and left. He didn't try to strike up a conversation. What would he even say? Orren spent a good bit of time trying to erase that entire year from his life, and yet he still found it coming back around to remind him. 

Just the other day, he'd seen a photo of himself in an old newspaper clipping. It was from when his class had done some community service project. He stood there, smiling at the camera with a dopey grin. He wasn't quite so thin, his face not as gaunt, and his eyes didn't have the deep bags under them that they had now. Standing next to him in the photo was...[i]her[/i]. She looked just the way he remembered her: young, beautiful, happy, [i]alive[/i]. It had only been one year, but he already felt so much older than the Orren in that photo. He'd torn the picture down from the bulletin board he'd found it on and tossed it into the nearest trash can. 

"Hey, buddy, you alright?" 

"Huh?" Orren snapped out of his daze and looked at the man standing in front of him, a small pile of groceries set on the counter. "Oh, yeah, sorry." He began ringing him up. How long had he been staring off into space like that?