Time Cut in The Shop
By L.C.A. Philip
Ciel sat on his stool enervatedly restringing the SG recently brought in the shop. From a young age he knew to make
use of closing time to tune up the equipment. To the back of the joint, Trisch was sleeping on the morning table. She had
narcolepsy minorly since she was employed there a few years back. Ciel checked his watch, fomented by the late hour. He
cut the surfeit string and put it back on the rack. He wiped off his hands. Uncommonly, Trisch would be half-sprawled in her sleep.
Ciel pulled up a chair and got a frozen coffee from the mini-fridge. While drinking he gazed over at his co-worker. Trisch
always had short brunette hair with a pink streak. He relaxed. Ciel knew she wouldn't wake up for a few hours, yet when she
did she always tried to fall back asleep. Ciel smiled. Her dad was an Irish country descendent. And from an early age, as she
was employed, Trisch was always drawing shamrocks on the price tags she ensured. :6. He wondered what she was dreaming
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