Shira was quite proud of herself for going outside. It was a weekend and it was her break period, a time she'd picked after carefully calculating the traffic of the shop. So far, she'd made her way to the Olympic Sculpture Park where she sat now, on an artistically warped bench overlooking the ocean. Over the years she had honed her 'do not disturb' look: if you held your head high, walked with a purpose (even if you had none), in quick strides and a knowing smirk, no one would bother to talk to you. Even now she sat, stiffly with her hands folded neatly in her lap as if mourning a deceased relative, except that she was not clad in black. God, she wished Vincent were here. Out of all the people who had come and died over the century, he'd been her rock. She had little idea where he was on a day-to-day basis, and Shira understood he didn't divulge that information because of both their co-dependency. Shira knew that he knew that she'd be calling him everyday if she knew his number. She couldn't contact him, only the other way around-- her number was blocked on his end, and he only unblocked it to text or call her when he wanted to. But she knew he cared enough to check up on his childe regularly, and she trusted him entirely to do that for the rest of eternity.
It was a sunless day, the sky filled with clouds as if it was about to rain-- in fact, it had, during the morning and she'd gone out when it had just stopped. Shit, did I take the plants inside? A wave of hot panic filled her for a couple seconds, and she wrung her hands in her hair as blood roared in her ears. What did you do today... let's see. Work through it. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, relaxing her posture. The days blurred now, and 120 years on earth made a single 24 hours seem like absolutely nothing. I... I woke up. Had breakfast, watered the tropical plants. I checked the expiration date of the herbs. I helped a customer... what did she look like again? It doesn't matter. No, it does. Oh, I remember now that she had a beautiful smile. That was her. Her name was... Josephine. No, Shira! That was the woman from yesterday. Or a week ago, she wasn't here today is the point. It was someone else. Yes, she bought a succulent. It was a cactus, I think-- no, that was Josephine, this woman bought the spiral aloe. Okay. And then I because I noticed she was wearing a rain jacket I looked outside and it was indeed raining, so I put some of the plants outside. And then no one else came so I went to the back to dry more flowers and prepare some herbs because the bay laurel was running low. I put on gloves, right? Yes, I did, otherwise my hands would be so raw right now from me washing them after. Someone had bought a bunch, I remember, a friend of Vincent's and I know this because Vincent had texted me the other day asking if his friend had-- STOP GETTING DISTRACTED. Okay. After I finished making a new jar of bay laurel and another of tarragon I went to check the weather. The rain had stopped. I decided to go out because I guessed the streets looked empty... Yes, I took back the plants because I almost tripped over the Kentia, and then carried all of them back. Wait, do I have dirt on my jacket?
Frantically, Shira brushed violently at the folds of her jacket. Dirt was one of her pet peeves-- she always made sure to wear heavy-duty gloves when working. Vincent teased her about it, but he understood it was a consequence of her OCD and was respectful enough not to push it beyond small jibes. I hope that lady who bought that aloe today didn't find me creepy, she thought as she continued to stare at the undulating waves beyond the docks. Shira knew she had a habit of semi-stalking her customers as they browsed the plants, making sure they weren't accidentally knocking things over or adjusting things when they moved around. She'd calculated the exact way the light hit her shop through her windows, and had positioned the various pots and plants at specific angles so they'd be complementing the light just right. What else was there to do around the store, anyway, besides chopping and drying herbs all day? It was a good idea to get out, she decided. So long as she didn't make anyone upset.
It was a sunless day, the sky filled with clouds as if it was about to rain-- in fact, it had, during the morning and she'd gone out when it had just stopped. Shit, did I take the plants inside? A wave of hot panic filled her for a couple seconds, and she wrung her hands in her hair as blood roared in her ears. What did you do today... let's see. Work through it. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, relaxing her posture. The days blurred now, and 120 years on earth made a single 24 hours seem like absolutely nothing. I... I woke up. Had breakfast, watered the tropical plants. I checked the expiration date of the herbs. I helped a customer... what did she look like again? It doesn't matter. No, it does. Oh, I remember now that she had a beautiful smile. That was her. Her name was... Josephine. No, Shira! That was the woman from yesterday. Or a week ago, she wasn't here today is the point. It was someone else. Yes, she bought a succulent. It was a cactus, I think-- no, that was Josephine, this woman bought the spiral aloe. Okay. And then I because I noticed she was wearing a rain jacket I looked outside and it was indeed raining, so I put some of the plants outside. And then no one else came so I went to the back to dry more flowers and prepare some herbs because the bay laurel was running low. I put on gloves, right? Yes, I did, otherwise my hands would be so raw right now from me washing them after. Someone had bought a bunch, I remember, a friend of Vincent's and I know this because Vincent had texted me the other day asking if his friend had-- STOP GETTING DISTRACTED. Okay. After I finished making a new jar of bay laurel and another of tarragon I went to check the weather. The rain had stopped. I decided to go out because I guessed the streets looked empty... Yes, I took back the plants because I almost tripped over the Kentia, and then carried all of them back. Wait, do I have dirt on my jacket?
Frantically, Shira brushed violently at the folds of her jacket. Dirt was one of her pet peeves-- she always made sure to wear heavy-duty gloves when working. Vincent teased her about it, but he understood it was a consequence of her OCD and was respectful enough not to push it beyond small jibes. I hope that lady who bought that aloe today didn't find me creepy, she thought as she continued to stare at the undulating waves beyond the docks. Shira knew she had a habit of semi-stalking her customers as they browsed the plants, making sure they weren't accidentally knocking things over or adjusting things when they moved around. She'd calculated the exact way the light hit her shop through her windows, and had positioned the various pots and plants at specific angles so they'd be complementing the light just right. What else was there to do around the store, anyway, besides chopping and drying herbs all day? It was a good idea to get out, she decided. So long as she didn't make anyone upset.