...I should give this one to Guest.

He wiped a round, perfectly shaped orange, held it up to the sunlight, and smiled secretly to himself.

Then, he quickly cleared his throat and looked around. He tucked the orange into the front pocket of his brown vest and started working again, pretending nothing had happened.

The afternoon sun was quite stinging. It was hot enough to make his breathing slightly heavy and sweat flow.

He let out a small sigh and wiped away the sweat. He wondered what Guest was doing, a thought that came to him like a habit. She didn't trip somewhere, did she... Is that pharmacist's son pestering her again?

His teeth gritted involuntarily. After briefly recalling that dim-witted face smiling foolishly at Guest, he heard a familiar voice.