My legs refuse to move.
And my arms.
And quite possibly my heart, as well.
Hell, even my eyes can’t bring themselves to blink, completely bulged and glassy, as if they’re large marbles sitting in my face. My spine turns to ice, feeling insanely rigid and stiff. I think I just might snap right in half if I even breathe too hard.
Maybe it’s a good thing my lungs just decided to quit on me, too, then.
My brain is having serious trouble processing the words in front of me. My mouth goes incredibly dry, and I can’t even bring myself to swallow to relieve the parched sensation. I just stand there for several seconds—or maybe it’s several minutes, I don’t know—unable to look away from the piece of paper.
Reserved for sub.
Reserved. For. Sub.
R.e.s.e.r.v.e.d. f.o.r. s.u.b.