Whispers of Willow
“He has noticed me too, but should I approach him?”
Zack was in his mid-twenties. Willow wouldn’t call him a hard worker. He was, however, her only friend at work. But calling him a friend would be a stretch, perhaps an acquaintance. Someone who understood why she wanted to kill herself after every meeting with the boss, and no, there is no word for it, so let’s stick with acquaintance.
The woman shuffled the deck of tarot cards before laying five cards out on the table. Willow noticed her long, pointy nails before averting her gaze to the burning candles behind the woman. A fire hazard.