"No matter your problems, face them with a bright smile and a bucket of chocolate ice-cream," nana once wisely told me. At the time, I was barely twelve and thought that I could summon a unicorn if I just believed in myself.
A decade later, despi...
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Maeva's point of view.
"Kids stories go right here..." Is this woman trying to slowly extinguish the life out of me? In the course of the past two hours, she's been rambling and pointing at where every genre of books goes. I swear that myopia cannot make a person dyslexic. I'm perfectly capable of reading the signs placed under every shelve, for crying out loud!
"Don't worry, Mrs. Letterman," I reassure her, "I've got this."
As though the huge grin I'm flashing is not enough to soothe her rising OCD, she walks to the counter and says "Let's go over how to use the cash register, one more time." Agh, someone please help...
Thirty minutes of her teaching me how to push a button later, she finally realizes that it's way past noon. Whatever brunch she's invited to has long begun, and so she runs in between racks of novels, stomping her heels on the ground and reminding me AGAIN that I should offer a bookmark to every single client that walks in.
"I've got my purse, my phone, my mints..." Is she going to brunch or an international campaign against bad breath? What in the world does she need a mason jar full of hard mints for? "Do you want one?" she asks, almost breaking my nose as she holds the pot close to my face and reads a message she just received on her mobile.
Although I decline the offer, she keeps it close enough for my nostrils to inhale every bit of the sharp smell emanating from it. A while later, and as I'm about to faint from all the peppermint scent stored in my lungs, she walks out of the door, face still creased with concern.
"These books need to be dusted and rearranged in alphabetical order," I say and she tries to interrupt, but I continue, ignoring her half-opened mouth. "The delivery guy will arrive in about thirty minutes... and in case anything happens I'll make sure to call you."
Sighing hard as my control freak of a boss has finally left to make herself some friends from the strange world of humans, I sit on a chair and look around. There are books, bookmarks, bookshelves, book-themed lights, and even more books as if to make sure that the theme does not go unnoticed. Something's missing, though! Where's the heavenly coffee smell? Why's there no cup of brown goodness on my desk. I demand caffeine! On second thought, I better not drink, otherwise, Daniel would kick my butt.
As I try to fit a hurdle of books on one shelf, a faint ring resonates in the room and announces that a customer has entered the shop. The introvert in me weeps as I try to get myself to smile like a normal being. My first ever client, how exciting...
A young guy barges in, not even greeting me. I wonder what type of novels he's into. Perhaps horror or even historic. Considering his few tattoos, though, I guess he's most probably a fantasy buff.
"Can I use your bathroom?" I click my tongue and he frowns, almost shattering the door on his way out.
'What a shame, you could've sold him a book on social manners.'
