lady-abra:
It was just like her to move into a new building the very day a storm hit, and Abra kicked herself for being the sort of person who never paid much attention to the news. The news always made it so difficult to be positive, and she thrived on being positive. Leaving her belongings in a U-Haul and hoping they’d be there when she got back, Abra made her way down to the basement she’d been told to report to with only her purse and travel cooler in hand. At least I’ve got snacks, she thought. Setting her bags down, she took a seat as far away from anyone else as she could, thinking it best to get space if she could in such a cramped basement. Digging through her bag, she did an inventory of the foods she had and knew it was more than she’d need.
“Hey, is anyone hungry?”
The severity of the situation hadn’t altogether escaped her, but the storm’s touchdown had forced Audrey to abandon breakfast altogether. And with the entirety of a chocolate chip waffle sandwich lying cold and lonely on her kitchen table, the pangs in her stomach had beat out all other anxieties. She should’ve known better than to assume something--anything--to eat would be provided while they waited. But she had a sneaking suspicion, now, that Sue would sooner see them waste away than break the bank with food rations.
In realizing as much, she had angrily given up hope. So the offer, when it came, was the surprising result of some benevolent and karmic force of the universe, she was sure of it.
She squinted in the dimness, stomach rumbling, eyes trained on the bag at their feet. If all went well, this stranger would Mary Poppins a stack of pancakes into existence, but out of desperation, she supposed she’d take what she could get regardless. “I guess it depends what’s cookin’, good lookin’.”
