Staking Out

Michael decided to stay behind long after work had finished. 

Once the final shutter gate bolted shut, and the last car had wheeled away into the night, Michael settled himself down at a spot just across the road to the shop. 

He didn't particularly mind the feel of the hard ground or the arid summer night air, the odd look or two from passerby strolling through - focus and devotion kept him from deviating to those little trite gripes.

For an hour, he waited. Then, that hour became two, and Michael felt every second and minute passing him with the constant ebb and flow of traffic. He wasn't sure yet what exactly he was looking for, but as the skies grew darker and the streets quieter, he could feel his resolve for the night begin to lose to attrition.