Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

Winter
Five Years Ago
“All set?” Sara Dahlberg asked as she walked into the ticket
booth.
I pooled all the nickels into my hand, dumped them back
into the tray, and recorded the sum on a notepad, fingering the
indentations of my pen marks to find where I needed to write
the total. “Yep.”
“I’ll count your bills.” She pulled the tray over to her side,
and I heard the shuffle of money as she counted the rest of my
bank.
“Thanks.”
I shut down my computer and switched off the marquee
outside, the constant buzz of the lighting above finally dying.
I’d only been working here about eight weeks, but already that
sound was killing me. I would’ve rather worked concessions
inside, but the theater manager was concerned about how I
would manage behind the counter with the chaos of other
employees moving about. I had ideas, but she had a system
that worked, so…
I didn’t really expect much more from her, though. She
didn’t think I should do a lot of things. She only gave me this