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Abbie was so tired of everything.
Her bones were aching, her head was spinning, and her voice cracked as if she had just recently shoved a hundred lit cigarettes down her throat. And not only did she feel like shit, but then her car decided it would be a great time for it to breakdown. No matter how much she would swear and curse at the vehicle, the hunk of metal was not going to go anywhere.
So now there she was, walking half a mile to the grocery store in sweat pants and over-sized jacket, sputtering and hacking all the way there. At that point, no amount of cough medicine or herbal remedies would help her. She needed food, something warm, and then she needed to sleep. And that was exactly what Abbie planned on doing once she got home.
That is, if she could manage to survive long enough to do so.
While walking through the parking lot of the shopping center, a small truck almost ran into her, only stopping when she had seen the vehicle out of the corner of her eye and yelled out, “Hey! Ever heard of pedestrians first, jackass?” And in her fit of frustration, she thought it would helpful to kick the car’s tire, just to show the startled looking man how angry she really was. “Watch where you’re going!”
She then stomped away; fuming with her fists clenched at her side and remained that way until she finally walked through the automatic doors of the store. All she wanted was some soup, dammit. Was that so much to ask for?
Abbie grabbed a basket and began walking up and down the aisles, grabbing things here and there as she went, and mumbling to herself about how stupid the common cold was. By the time she got to the soup section, she was ready to fall asleep on her feet.
Rubbing her eyes blearily, she sighed and scanned the selection of broths they had. Her gaze rolled over Spaghetti Os, clam chowder, and tons of different brands of tomato basil, but stopped when she found the soup she wanted. She decided that she should just go with what all sick people eat: chicken noodle.
She reached up, almost touching the can, until another larger hand got in the way. Abbie blinked. She didn’t realize what had happened until the person beside her snatched his hand back with a frantic, “Terribly sorry, Miss!” She took one long look at him, noticing the redness of his nose and how congested he had sounded; how his long, brown hair was disheveled and his eyes were red watery. He was obviously sick as well.
Yet, all Abbie did was fold her arms across her chest and raise a brow. “You’re the jackass from the parking lot, aren't you?”