I stared at the clock on the wall, It was 11:55 PM. My shift was almost over.“Isabella, are you still with us?" I blinked and looked at Marge.She was wiping down the counter for the umpteenth time tonight. Her grey hair was falling out of her hairnet, and she looked just as tired as I felt."I'm here, Marge. Just thinking about my bed, I really need to get some rest,” I said. My voice sounded raspy. I’d been taking orders for eight hours straight."You’ve been looking at that door all night," Marge said. She stopped scrubbing and leaned on her elbows. "Expecting someone? A boyfriend?"I let out a small laugh. “A boyfriend?” Marge just nodded innocently.“You’re old enough to have a boyfriend, aren’t you?” She smiled.I shook my head and started stacking the clean mugs. "I am, but it’s not a boyfriend... I don’t know, it’s just a feeling; I may be overthinking it.” I shrugged."What kind of feeling?""The air feels different, you know, like it’s too thick," I muttered, but she just l
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