Monday, August 29, 2011

Could Be Better

Aden dragged into the shop, his eyelids heavy and his bag sliding off of his shoulder.
He had not had such a bad day in ages.
Every single appointment canceled, his neighbor had had a nervous break down at 3 in the morning and Aden had rushed him to the hospital, then he had found out the vase he had collected yesterday was a fake.
He didn't even bother to go to his usual table, he just slumped down on the closest seat and let his head fall to the table.

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