ST
A late-night convenience store shifts from routine to something quietly unsettling when a regular customer begins appearing at the same time every day. He’s charming, calm, and impossible to ignore—and with every visit, the pattern starts to feel less like coincidence and more like intention.
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@txlixThe fluorescent lights buzzed overhead—one of them flickered every few seconds like it was counting down something. The store was empty. Still. Quiet. The way it always got after midnight, when the shelves felt less like a store and more like a stage waiting for someone to walk onto it.
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