This would happen

Teeth were being brushed and children were tucked in bed in the suburban streets of New Jersey. Life on Lexington street was anything but ordinary for the families. However, a couple blocks down from the maple tree covered streets, seemed to be a different scenario.
The clock struck midnight and Chris’ 12 hour shift was half-way over. He closed his eyes, to block the luminescent glare from the florescent 7-11 sign.The desire to sleep over took his body, as the grimy counter called to him as a pillow. The sound of bells awoke him instantly as a hooded figure stumbled through the crusty doors. It was probably another idiot who needed a pack of Marlboro, typical. The hoodlum approaches the counter in a nonchalant manner, with nothing to buy. The subtle but swift swipe out of his pocket sent a shock up Chris’ spine.
“Give me all the money, put it in the bag, and then get on the ground... NOW butterball!”
Frozen, Chris was staring down the barrel of death, and all he could think about was cinnamon rolls. Specifically the distinct smell you awaken to in the morning as a kid. The picture perfect mother has breakfast all ready before you run to catch the bus for school. Yes, cinnamon rolls scattered his mind, reminding Chris that his life never has or will be picturesque. Again, the barrel appeared, with chewed up black finger on the trigger.
The presence of his beautiful fiancee, Lisa, surrounded Chris’ body. He could feel; her delicate pale hands interlock with his, he could smell her flower perfume, he could taste her cherry red lipstick on his flabby cheek. For as long as Lisa has been gone, she is still alive in Chris’ heart since the fatal collision. If only he had kept his eyes on the road, Chris nor Lisa would not be in this situation today, he would still be in law school. His life would still be worth something.
Hundreds of dollars slipped through his fingers into the dark burgundy potato sack. Chris, caught a glimpse of his reflection off the metallic gun. It wasn’t a chunky thirty year old man, it wasn’t a college drop-out failure, it was something that he has never seen before.
A crowbar made its way into the grip of Chris from under the counter. The burglar’s eyes were fixated on the sack, he had no time to notice the flying piece of metal make way for his face. The falling motion of the hooded man lasted forever, Chris, just standing, waiting for an end. During the extremely brief period of time, Chris did not feel like a failure, but a hero. Waiting for the gun to escape from his hand and onto the cheap multi-colored tile floor. Thats what Chris was waiting and hoping for. But, not everything we do ends up perfect. Things can take a turn for the worst. In this case, the worst happened to be the gunned figure catch his fall and quickly get up.
The smell of fresh baked cinnamon rolls still resonated with Chris, he found it comforting.
Lisa watched from a far distance, knowing what will happen next. All she could do is pray that it would all turn out okay.

Yes I quite liked this. For such a short piece, a lot was revealed.

Very nice. I love when he sees his reflection in the gun. I'm left wanting more, though. Maybe one more small scene in the middle, maybe an encounter with another customer or another image flashing through his mind, would really tie everything together.

There are things wrong with it, but like you said, sometimes things go wrong, or something to that effect. Maugham was into things being "sonorous" or some kind of crazy word like that.. It should sound good maybe. Trip off the tongue easily. That may be a challenge, but other parts were rich and perfect. I liked it.