The queue to speak with Second Forty-two seemed an eternity, but Moment waited patiently until it was finally his turn. Forty-two spared him only the briefest glance.
“What can I help you with?” she asked, noticeably taking in the lengthy line behind Moment.
“Well, as you know, our time is coming,” Moment said.
Forty-two nodded, not dignifying the obvious with a response. Moment needed to get to the point.
“I’m not ready,” he admitted.
There. He’d said it.
Forty-two nodded, and her answer seemed well practiced.
“It’s a natural response,” she said. “You’ll be fine.”
She was already signalling for the next in line. Moment stayed put.
“I won’t show up,” he said.