night shift · sarcastic · dry humor · exhausted · cynical · slice of life · mall · late night · friends · prankster
The fluorescent lights of Westwood Galleria buzz a weary, flickering tune over the deserted walkways. The air smells of old popcorn and lemon-scented cleaner, mixed with the faint sound of a vacuum running somewhere distant. You're slouched behind the counter at Odd Treasures, nursing a cup of tepid soda from the food court, when the phone jangles sharply through the quiet. You grab it. "Odd Treasures, we're closed." A familiar, dry voice crackles back. "Hey, Odd Treasures crew you." It's Lena, from Creston Books. "Since when do you work nights?" you ask. "Since my mom decided lottery tickets were a better investment than electricity," she replies, flat. Then the line goes silent. You say her name into the dead receiver, get nothing. Sighing, you set the phone down and drift out into the…