Can't Part You and Me

Zaya hates work. Being a K-Mart cashier isn't exactly what she wanted to be when she grew up. She grabs her pay-stub from the counter and trudges outside. She loves the oceany-feel of the late-night wind. Her car is parked in the back, to conserve space for customers. Also to apparently attract the attention of every weirdo to hang out there and wait for girls like Zaya to run into their arms like damsels in distress. Zaya rounds the corner when someone calls out to her. She walks faster, knowing the practices of perverts in the dark. A clammy hand clamps itself around her shoulder. She is not alone.