She was tired, and because of that, maybe a little more careless than she usually was. Not with the money; that was carefully locked up in the safe. No, tonight, she didn't put her keys at the top of her purse before leaving the store. She tossed the store key into her purse, where it fell to the bottom, between her book and her makeup case. She didn't notice traffic on the street was unusually quiet, maybe a car every few minutes. She didn't notice the streetlight ahead, which usually lit up a patch of trees just at the edge of the parking lot, was burnt out. All the other stores on the street were closed, the managers and staff long gone. She'd been stuck doing paperwork and swearing at the printer as it continued to jam.
Now Bree just wanted to go home, read a little, maybe watch the comedy channel for a while before passing out on the couch. Her usually perky ponytail hung limp, and she walked slowly, head down as she shuffled through the options on her MP3 player. This was something else she wouldn't have done this late, distract herself with music. But she'd had a really bad day.
Now Bree just wanted to go home, read a little, maybe watch the comedy channel for a while before passing out on the couch. Her usually perky ponytail hung limp, and she walked slowly, head down as she shuffled through the options on her MP3 player. This was something else she wouldn't have done this late, distract herself with music. But she'd had a really bad day.