He looked at the sign taped to the glass: Closed in Observation of Veterans Day.

about a veteran and a specific piece of technology.

Arthur looked down at his own jacket—a faded olive drab with a patched unit insignia on the shoulder. He had forgotten. In the rush of the modern world, where every holiday was just a reason for a "Doorbuster Sale," he had expected the temple of consumerism to be open.

A shadow moved near the door. A young man in a blue polo shirt was inside, dragging a pallet of boxes. He caught sight of Arthur in the truck and paused. The young man looked at the truck, then at Arthur’s hat—the one with the gold lettering that said Vietnam Veteran.