@nathanielarnault
Location: Cider Hill Time: Afternoon
Deciding that she didn’t want the Postmates guy to know exactly where she lived, Zoe had traipsed out onto the street a little ways away from her house to meet him and accept her delivery of a freshly made acai bowl and a fruit flavored but notably low sugar boba tea, having decided that she absolutely could not be fucked making something for herself. Her sister was at work, or whatever it was that she did during daylight hours, her mother was also at work and her father was running errands with a friend in another part of town and Zoe had the family home all to herself. It was great for a short time, the freedom was welcome, that was until she realized that the door had locked behind her on her way out into the street and not only had she left her keys inside but her cell phone and her shoes as well.
So, pissed off but well supplied and in her socks, she stood outside her own front door, scrambling almost desperately, searching under the door mat, above the door frame and in nearby pot plants for a spare key to get her back inside. “Great, this is awesome, I love this, this is perfect,” she muttered to herself, vaguely aware that she sounded a lot like she’d lost her mind.
She took a moment to gathering herself, even managing a humorless laugh at her situation before she lost it again. “Fuck!” she shrieked rather carelessly without any sort of concern for who might be around the neighborhood to hear her at the time. The only thing she wanted was to be sitting on her couch with her lunch and not feeling like the world was very pointedly trying to kick her ass at every given opportunity and if she couldn’t have that, she wanted the world to know how mad she was about it. With that, she kicked the front door, forgetting that she’d neglected to slip her running shoes on before meeting the delivery guy, since he’d arrived a few minutes earlier than the app on her phone had predicted. “Oh my fff-” she held in her explosive reaction in favor of dealing with the temporarily excruciating pain in her toes and instead of saying what she’d meant, she hit her palm against the door, scolding it for injuring her, as if it hadn’t been her fault at all.