Ion had been standing in line since 6:47. The December wind cut through his thin jacket. Behind him, a young woman held a sleeping toddler. Ahead, an old man kept checking a worn envelope, making sure the papers were still there.
"No criminal record," she said flatly.
Ion had come on a Thursday by mistake last month. Closed for "inventar." The Tuesday before that, the system was down. Today, he whispered to himself, "Third time is the charm." program cazier chitila