The Kiss Of Truth

Walking to the counter, she sees the guy sat back with his flat cap tilted to cover his face. Olivia clears her throat.

“It’s about time,” he huffs, clearly not happy to have been kept late. He scans the items, a methodical beep as each one passes through the red light, and Olivia pays then walks out. Glancing at her watch she realises that, okay, he’d been right to be annoyed with her: her five minutes buying paint had turned into an hour, and she wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d just given up and thrown her out. Then again, she’d probably bought more than most of his other customers had today. Choosing a colour apparently wasn’t as easy as she had hoped. Had she really spent a whole hour there?

Walking home she smiles, bags swinging from her hands. She will find a place she fits. She doesn’t fit in with her mum and siste