Numbers Creep Forward In Line
The wall clock ticked loud enough to cut through the hum of printers. Staff called numbers in a steady rhythm while carts rattled between windows.
A man in a ball cap asked for title abstracts and stepped aside to count change. A clerk wheeled past with a stack of gray binders secured by straps.
The queue moved three spots, and my ticket crept closer on the screen. I placed the parcel card on top of the folder and stood up.