A Moment of Temptation

At the register, the ancient credit-card machine hummed like a sleeping animal. Chloe’s fingers hovered over the keys. The menu board above ticked softly where a light was going out. She imagined a hundred petty revenges: water tipping from pitcher’s lip, a check padded with an extra side, a tossed-off line that would skewer. The images came sugar-bright and satisfying and then faded before they could harden. She remembered the counselor who’d said gently, “You can keep drinking the poison of imagining getting even, or you can set it down and see what else your hands might do.” Her hands, she found, could steady.