Aniela sighed as she read the small sticky note pinned to the corkboard above the kitchen counter. Night shift. Closing. Cleaning duties. It wasn’t the glamorous part of the job, but she didn’t complain. She straightened her apron and squared her shoulders. Alright. Let’s get this done. One task at a time.
Her first duty was simple but tedious: wiping down the counters. She grabbed a damp cloth, moving it across the polished surface with slow, deliberate strokes. The lingering smell of alcohol and citrus from the bar behind her still hovered faintly in the air, and she had to shake her head to focus. Focus. Don’t let thoughts wander.
Next, she tackled the shelves, dusting each row of bottles carefully. She imagined each bottle as a silent judge, staring down at her work. She hummed light
