10th Summer, 515AV
The store was empty.
It was in moments such as this one that Shakune finally allowed herself to exhale. Her left hand reached up to her right arm, forefinger and thumb squeezing her own copper flesh tightly.
A pinch.
Yet the dream did not shatter apart, the shop and Shakune remained perfectly stationary and perfectly intact. It was real, all real.
A slow smile crept across the courier's lips. She'd done it. She had finally, officially, opened her own store. No Questions Couriers finally existed in the form a slightly rundown, but still intact, shop. The floor was bare, revealing the original and crooked floorboards. One wall was painted a gaudy yellow - the others were plain and creamy, peeling at the corners and flaking in patches. The ceiling was comparatively undamaged, though there was a stain of questionable origin hanging right above the doorway. Havzi refused to stand directly underneath the red patch for any length of time, claiming that she'd seen gloopy drops of whatever the stain was made of drip down and splatter on the wooden floor beneath. It at least explained the patchy discolouring of the wooden slacks.
In truth, the store was tired and had clearly not been cared for by whoever had last occupied the space. When she'd planned running her own business, Shakune had imagined a luxurious storefront, with carpet and comfortable chairs, fancy candleholders. The reality was a stark contrast. And yet despite its bare walls and creaking floorboards, Shakune adored it. The business was hers - from floor to ceiling, from wall to wall. All of it was hers.
She stole a glance to the padlocked chest to her right. It was in there that Shakune stored the packages and letters she'd received throughout the workday, to be delivered over the next few days. Currently, three letters and five parcels resided within the chest, all safely locked away. The courier wore the small key to the padlock on a piece of sting around her neck. She'd never been one for jewellery before, but this was one particularly accessory she simply couldn't leave home without.
Her black eyes returned to the door opposite. She willed someone to walk through it, but it was the end of the day, now. The fishermen had long sold their stock and the market outside was beginning to close and be packed away. The last few merchants hollering out their wares did so in strained, tired voices.
Accepting defeat, Shakune turned to her final task of the day: sifting through the small amount of paperwork that invariably collected on the desk of a business owner.
Business owner, ha! She grinned again, wriggling in her seat like an excited child before picking up numerous sheets of parchments and organising them into separate piles.
It was in moments such as this one that Shakune finally allowed herself to exhale. Her left hand reached up to her right arm, forefinger and thumb squeezing her own copper flesh tightly.
A pinch.
Yet the dream did not shatter apart, the shop and Shakune remained perfectly stationary and perfectly intact. It was real, all real.
A slow smile crept across the courier's lips. She'd done it. She had finally, officially, opened her own store. No Questions Couriers finally existed in the form a slightly rundown, but still intact, shop. The floor was bare, revealing the original and crooked floorboards. One wall was painted a gaudy yellow - the others were plain and creamy, peeling at the corners and flaking in patches. The ceiling was comparatively undamaged, though there was a stain of questionable origin hanging right above the doorway. Havzi refused to stand directly underneath the red patch for any length of time, claiming that she'd seen gloopy drops of whatever the stain was made of drip down and splatter on the wooden floor beneath. It at least explained the patchy discolouring of the wooden slacks.
In truth, the store was tired and had clearly not been cared for by whoever had last occupied the space. When she'd planned running her own business, Shakune had imagined a luxurious storefront, with carpet and comfortable chairs, fancy candleholders. The reality was a stark contrast. And yet despite its bare walls and creaking floorboards, Shakune adored it. The business was hers - from floor to ceiling, from wall to wall. All of it was hers.
She stole a glance to the padlocked chest to her right. It was in there that Shakune stored the packages and letters she'd received throughout the workday, to be delivered over the next few days. Currently, three letters and five parcels resided within the chest, all safely locked away. The courier wore the small key to the padlock on a piece of sting around her neck. She'd never been one for jewellery before, but this was one particularly accessory she simply couldn't leave home without.
Her black eyes returned to the door opposite. She willed someone to walk through it, but it was the end of the day, now. The fishermen had long sold their stock and the market outside was beginning to close and be packed away. The last few merchants hollering out their wares did so in strained, tired voices.
Accepting defeat, Shakune turned to her final task of the day: sifting through the small amount of paperwork that invariably collected on the desk of a business owner.
Business owner, ha! She grinned again, wriggling in her seat like an excited child before picking up numerous sheets of parchments and organising them into separate piles.
