Lusvious

ᴏɴᴇ : Sɪᴘᴘʏ Cᴜᴘ

Wilma was standing at the desk of the small boutique, on one of the busy streets of brooklyn. The store was not big in any way at all but she loved it. Everything in this boutique was colorful and cozy but still clean.
The boutique had been her side job since exactly two year back, she had found it when she walked home from the first day off college. She had walked in and looked around without attention to find a job or to buy anything when a woman walked up to her and knocked on her back and asked her if she could help her to find a specific flower.

Wilma at that moment was confused but knew what flower she was looking after and showed her. The woman thanked her and then left. She had stood there confused then decided that she could give herself a first college day gift and bought a bouquet. When she was ready to pay, an old woman stood at the desk and had the biggest smile on her face. Wilma greeted her happily and paid. When she was then ready to walk away the old woman asked her if she would like to work at the small boutique.

Since that day she had worked there after school every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and if she needed extra money she had worked the weekends also not that she complained. The small store was owned by the old lady that she first met. The woman had owned the store since she was young.

The boutique was filled with different types of colorful flowers and now in late august the boutique was even more colorful than it normally is. The store was a happy and calm place for Wilma, since the flowers could never stress her. Even under the most hectic parts last semester at college, and thanks to the boutique she kept her calm.

"Wilma darling, your shift is over since an hour ago, why haven't you left already?" Maggan the old lady asked when she walked back into the room from the back where she fixed the flowers. Maggan was like a grandmother to Wilma. She looked after her as a mother. Mostly because she did not have kids herself and saw Wilma as her kid.

Wilma loved her with her whole heart as the happy being she is.

"Oh I had no idea you did not want me here" she joked back at her and packed her tot bag. Wilma and Maggan had a nice bond, they could joke and Maggan could still be her boss.

"I didn't mean it like that, but don't you have something funnier to do? You are young, you can stand behind a desk when you get old like me" She said back and walked over to Wilma. "Don't you have friends or a boyfriend to be with?". Then she checked some of the flowers. "or a girlfriend of course".

Wilma laughed at her boss, Maggan was always that way. "Well I have friends that I think are at home but I find it calm to be here, here with you. Sometimes I talk to some strangers asking about what they should buy for flowers for their beloved. But I should leave, see what my friends are up to. Thanks for today, see you on Wednesday and have a great Friday and weekend" Wilma said and started to walk out of the boutique.

Taking up her phone and airpods she put one some music for herself to listen to while she walked home in the beautiful afternoon sun that's shining on the brooklyn street. She had always been a fan of Melanie Martinez, her music was always so interesting to listen to because all her music had a message and important subject, and sure many artists sing about important subjects but what she does is metaphorical and not so obviously to the daily and not so focused mind. Walking in rhythm to Sippy Cup she was in her own mind and world almost as she was in a book or a movie where she was the main character. "Sex don't sleeps when the lights are off..." she hummed as she looked around on the busy street. Then turning to one off the less busy streets and keps humming. "he doesn't think I'm that fucking dumb, does he?". Walking up to the apartment door that leads to the staircase she walks in and starts walking up the stairs and now sings a little louder. The apartment building that she and her friends lived in does not have an elevator so she has to walk up to the fourteen floor three hundred sixty five days a year  "All the makeup in the world won't make you less insecure...".