The shopkeeper still wore a full-faced grin, enthusiastically pitching a tailcoat to the man before him, pulling out all the stops in hopes that the distinguished and elegant gentleman would make a purchase. The man, too, smiled, nodding in apparent satisfaction. He rested his chin on his hand but remained steadfastly at the doorway, showing no sign of budging.
As seconds ticked by, the ticking of the clock began to sound like the footsteps of a monster. Unbeknownst to them, it was already past six o'clock, the time by which Idiot was required to be present as Kampas's instruction.
Yet, even as the wall clock began to chime, signaling the hour, Idiot's feet remained rooted to the floor, clutching his bread and silently hanging his head…
