@visualspice
Closing up shop really shouldn't have been the most difficult part of the day.
Yet, somehow, it was. It always was.
Customers who didn't want to leave, or who arrived "just a few minutes late, can't you let me in?"; clearing out the shelves of the bakery, wrapping bread and pastries and tucking them away in the larder--those that could be preserved, at any rate; cleaning the front of the shop, then
finally moving back into the bakehouse to clean up in there...
It always took longer than she thought it was going to. And Nyla never seemed to be able to say
no whenever one of those "just a minute late" customers appeared at the door
just as she was getting ready to head out the back of the bakery and take the stairs up to the little flat where she stayed above it.
Every time. She was nearly positive it must be choreographed somehow.
But even the small flash of irritation she felt when she heard the door to the bakery opening instantly sent her spiraling into guilt. The bakery was warm, and safe, and that was a rare thing in a city. Particularly in Reajh. Particularly
lately. How could she begrudge people seeking that safety? She wished she
could do more, but if she wanted to have anything to feed people in the morning, she did have to close up
sometime.
"Your pardon, ser, but I'm afraid I'm just closing up," she said as she turned from where she'd been organizing display shelves behind the counter to face the door and see just who had come in this time.