As Serina glanced over her shoulder at the line that had formed behind her in the alimentari, she mentally applauded herself for stopping by the shop when she had. She had made a habit out of shopping at the small grocery store when she didn’t have the energy or time to take a trip to one of the open air markets or to make three separate stops to pick up cheese, bread, and meat. From the looks of it, she was starting to get a better feel for what times the alimentari was the busiest. Serina turned back towards the counter, her thoughts shifting to whether she should double the amount of mint and basil in the pesto sauce she was going to make that night. Before she could make up her mind, a few fragments between the proprietress of the store and the unusually dressed customer (not that she had much room to talk considering she was wearing a lavender dress with stars and ghosts on it and carrying a black bat-shaped bag) in front of her, floated towards her.
“Uh, excuse me,” she began, offering the stranger in front of her a nervous smile, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but if you’re short a few lire, I can spare some change.”