Mint

She’d wanted to be a singer, then an actress and then a writer.

But now all she wanted was to make it through the day without doing something stupid, like quitting this shitty office job. It was supposed to temporary. Just for the summer. Or until something better came along. Outside, it was snowing and windy. She’d been dreaming about being home ever since this morning when her boss leaned in to go over the latest report from the corporate head office, and almost-too casually, let his hand rest on her shoulder.

His breath smelled of peanut butter and mouthwash.

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3 thoughts on “Mint

  1. I really like the provisional nature of her existence in this. Excellent. (Miranda July has a good line on this somewhere in one of her stories – about how all her friends are just stand-in friends while she’s waiting for her real ones to turn up).

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