Deep in the roots of the ruined city, Kayla poured her last cup of coffee. The steam poured out like the smoke of fires from the burning of bombings. The cup shook.

Around the blooded wounds on her legs continued to throb and her muscles coiled in agony. Yet she sat and drank her coffee. The apparently empty pistol disregarded on the counter.

“Selfish prick” she spat at the corpse of her former manager.

So this was her fate, huh? To sit and wait. Sit and wait for death when she could have been home if it wasn’t for the shop being low staffed. She’d properly already be dead but at least it would be have been quicker. Now she just has to sit.

The shadows reach out as she finishes the cup. Than she is left with the silence as a friend. The silence and the occasional distant gun shots.

Finally, after several eternities spent on the edge of her sit, the squeaking comes. The shadow of the child shaped robot on the tricycle enters the storage room first.

“About time”

The child enters. It’s hands click off. Bang.

Finally, the wait is over.