Noa leaned over a small counter, her face resting atop the palm of her hand, and a bored expression was on her face.
She stared at the hung clothing in front of her as if it were a void.
People came in and out at random intervals, the bell beside the door ringing each time.
Chatter, slight laughter, and scarce yet urgent demands resounded through the shop.
However, Noa was too much involved in her own mind to hear all of that.
'It's been three and a half weeks since I've been working here...' She looked at the clock, 'It's almost time to clock out...' She began to make her way toward the clock out booth.
'I could have stopped working, but it took one week to get the details of my gun just right...' She mused as he put in her number to clock out for the day.
'And now...' A smile appeared on her face as she turned toward the door, 'Betsy should be all finished up.'
