The Slowest Fourth Ever

“Christ, even I’m getting bored being here, and I’m stuck inside your head.”

Hearing the familiar voice talking to her, Luka slowly lifted her head up and looked forward at the wine display ahead, “I’m pretty sure my fucked up mind is a more interesting place to be right now.”

The voice snickered, “Yeah, and it’s a horny place, too.”

Luka chuckled, “Can’t help it, Eliza, I’m a freak.”

“Fair enough.”

After the quick back and forth with the voice, properly named Eliza, Luka yawned and sat up for a moment, bringing her arms all the way up to stretch, every bone in her body popping like lit firecrackers. Feeling more limber, she went back to laying on top of the counter, her head slamming into the mat again.

“What the hell is going on up front? It sounds like World War II with all of those popping and slamming sounds.”

Moments later heavy footsteps stomped along the aged wooden floorboards from the back and approached the counters. Having been with the job for so long, Luka could instantly tell who was walking towards her strictly based on sound, their scent, and even from the strange grunts and noises they would make out of pure boredom. Whether or not if this abstract skill was an intentional gain or not, Luka utilized it to the fullest. And in this case, she became annoyed within a heartbeat.

In perfect unison, Luka mentally shouted as Eliza joined in. “Fuck, it’s Carl!”

Panic set in as Luka quickly shot up from her resting position. She glanced down the aisle that lead to the back of the store, and saw a small shadow gliding across the floor. Wanting to avoid any kind of interaction with Carl, Luka spun around and ducked behind the door behind her, leading down into the basement. Making sure she was completely out of sight, she got on all fours and carefully walked backwards on the steps, preventing the aged steps from squeaking. When the heavy footsteps got closer, Luka’s entire body locked up and she held her breath, trying not to utter a single sound.

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