The Gift

by Freida McFadden

but at night, it sometimes feels like being in a morgue.

Crazy

My hair is the color of corn silk and is my best feature by far—people constantly compliment me on my hair and occasionally reach out to try to touch it. I haven’t done more than trim it in the last decade, so it runs all the way down my back, silky and shiny.

Andrew would love this (The Housemaid)

I think she’s dead.

Now your place of work is truly like a morgue

but after forgetting to serve one of my customers, she died.

This is serious but is kinda funny

“I’m telling you, every guy just wants a nice fork.”

Men are simple creatures

What’s the worst that could happen?

Annnnnd you've just sealed your fate buddy

It’s almost as if the items in the store are radiating heat.

The items have souls in them You know what else has souls in them? ANIMATRONICS FROM FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S

lucrative.”

Nice word

For a little while, every man who came to my store only wanted to buy toy ponies.

Ah they were either getting stuff for their daughters or Collectors… cough… ponybros

“It is a pocket watch chain.”

This reminds me of my random interest to get a pocket watch…

gaunt.

Interesting word

hair,

More like lack of it

He never hangs stuff up properly—he just throws them on the hanger, sliding half off.

An ick. This will probably build up in the story and cause tension between the two

Men are so helpless—I’m

Indeed

“I sold my hair!”

Gang that's all your fault

I pick up the tray of brownies and throw them across the room.

Crazy