(This is probably the first situation I have ever applied the word ‘awkward’ to. Man, was I a twisted kid.)
He pulls the hood of his jacket over his head as he enters the drugstore, and stuffs his hands in his pockets so that no one would see that they are shaking.
He knows what he has to do, but he lingers momentarily – he takes a few more breaths while staring at the shelves, not really seeing anything. It’s now or never.
The cashier looks at him with a finger ready at the panic button. The guard is ready, too, his hand inching closer to the gun at his side.
His voice cracks as he makes his demand.