@ashmoremuses
Why was this so hard? Compared to things she’d done on a nightly basis just to survive, this should be a walk in the park, but for the first time in who knows how long, very real fear restricting her lungs far more than the cigarette smoke that she inhaled. Hands shaking, she stared across the parking lot at the congregation of people standing outside the door, taking a small solace in the fact that she was hidden in the shadows next to tree planted in a small space between parking lanes and looking as pathetically choked as she felt.
Somehow both hot and cold, she’d paired an oversized black hoodie with a pair of tiny denim shorts, her feet for once lodged into the comfort of a pair of flip flops rather than the biting heels that had long ago worn deep callouses into them. Even her face with it’s smattering of light freckles was free of make up, masses of dusty blond tresses piled on top of her head in a messy bun that added several inches to her pixie-ish five foot stature.
Dropping her cigarette onto the pavement next to the tree, she used her toe to stamp it out as the first of the crowd started to head into the establishment, but even then she hesitated. Being last would be worse than being first, but it seemed this would be just another failed attempt to step through those doors, because already she could tell, there was no way she was going to be able to make herself go.
