Marshmallow22

Five-thirty in the morning and your eyes were still gritty from sleep. A yawn cracked your jaws open wide. The back door squeaked when you opened it. Damn it. Need to oil that. You flipped the switches and the lights flickered on. A soft golden glow, not harsh fluorescents, because fuck that noise. Living in the apartment above the coffee shop meant you only had to roll out of bed, shower, and walk down the metal back stairs. Pretty easy a commute. It was why you opened each morning and closed up most nights. Why make some seventeen year old, sleep-deprived student get up at the asscrack of dawn and get the bus when you could do it yourself.