[found.]

[found.]

Skylar's pen quivered slightly with every arching stroke across the page. He stifled a bored yawn and glance up at the electronic clock by the edge of the mahogany checkout desk. The monochrome Plumerian sighed lightly and began to drum his fingers on the wood, disappointed at how slow time inched by. "Only 4:36," he whispered to himself, fixing his gaze on the ink that darkened his fingertips, on the graphite that smudged his new jacket. Skylar exhaled sharply and slipped off his jacket, revealing a crisp white button-up shirt. He glared at the dark stain on his jacket before tossing it behind him.