Sorry Weвђ™re Open -

Sorry, We’re Open. The sign is a sigh, a corporate apology,For forcing a soul to stand by the till,To trade away hours of human biologyFor pennies and quarters and dollar bills.

And I haven't slept in twenty. I am a hollow vessel holding a spatula, Gary. GARY How do you know my name? Sorry We’re Open

Gary looks at the neon sign glowing in the window: . GARY I thought that was a typo. Sorry, We’re Open

The scanner beeps a rhythmic chime,A digital pulse in a graveyard space.We sell the illusion of stopped-clock time,But the fluorescent light lines every face. a corporate apology

The door flies open. GARY (40s, covered in snow) stumbles in, shivering violently.