The man who had nearly killed me strolled through the supermarket aisle like he owned the world, tossing a crumpled cigarette pack onto the counter.
The seller — just a kid, no older than Eighteen — had his nose buried in a dog-eared paperback.
SMACK!
The sound of the slap cracked across the air, loud enough to make the other customers stiffen.
“How dare you ignore me?” the driver barked, his voice was venomous. His breath stank of stale tobacco. “You looking to die, boy?”
The kid flinched, clutching his cheek. “S-sorry, sir…”
The driver slapped him again, this time with the folded bills, the edges cutting across skin.
“Tch.” He snatched the cigarettes without waiting for change, humming off-key as if the world owed him applause. He tore the plastic, flicked out a stick, and lit it
