Cнα⅊тɛʀ 26 (edited)

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Nora's P

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Nora's P.O.V

"Ma'am, would you like anything else?" Interrupted a feminine voice in my dream-away-world. That voice was so quiet, so far away that I didn't bother paying it any attention. I was hoping they would eventually disappear but when the woman continued to pester me, I caved in and gave the voice some attention.

"Huh?" I distractedly phrased.

I was having one of those moments in life, the kind where you sat there and contemplated your entire years as if you were the judge and executioner. Those specific times where every decision, every memory, every word, and every situation devoured your soul and left you feeling empty in hell. I'd been sitting in a café for the last half hour of my lunch break and my only conclusion was that I needed some time away from Elijah and this entire ordeal of the dodgy messenger. I'd probably thought this a hundred times and I knew it was all talk. I could never give Elijah up or the job for that matter. Mom needed my help, and the family needed the money.

Either way the world was simply moving too fast for me to comprehend like tsunami tidal waves that crashed their course and destroyed everything in its path. Time itself was a pain in the ass where it counted down the hours, minutes, and seconds and left me standing there, in the centre of it all in the exact same space where I'd started. 'How can I compete with the world if I can't compete with myself?' A question I'd never answer.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" That incessant voice questioned me so I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window ignoring the people walking and minding their own business as life carried on as normal.

"Yes, why?" I asked in return, still trying to get back to that frequency of contemplation I was having.

The woman huffed in annoyance, a slight roll of her eyes indicating an attitude I was sure contradicted the customer service that this café prided itself upon. Tuning into my surroundings a bit more I noticed the sounds of scraping chairs and clanging of coffee cups and plates, the kettles wheezing in high pitched noise and the coffee makers grumbling and hissing with steam as they repetitively made coffee for those work addicts that needed the extra boost.

The overhead speakers found in each corner of the room were playing soft violin music, the kind that if you tuned into the music, you would realise were a mixture of classics and covers of pop songs. Even the people in the shop were particular, in the sense that they all spoke in hushed tones, privately as if afraid that the people sitting near them would hear every tiny detail and yet collectively all of the voices awakened a vibration of bustling voices. Like bees near a hive the sound was a powering life force that paired to the scent of coffee beans acted energising.

"Because you've been distant for the last five minutes and for good customer services, I have to ask you if there's anything else you want", the woman hissed her eyes blazing and fists clenching subtly by her sides. 'Oh she was a nightmare', I decided but refrained from calling her out on it or reporting her to a manager, 'I wasn't a Karen after all.'

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