26 Dangerous Encounter

"Just another day and job, Alexa. The money is all that matters." Alex said to herself as a measly form of encouragement.

But what amount of encouragement could really prepare her for another shift in this greasly job?

Enduring the pungent stench of faecal matter and urine and mopping regurgitated combo of booze, party pills, and burritos of girls who were too drunk to tell apart a flower pot from a toilet sink wasn't exactly how she wanted to make money, but what other choices were there?

Though the money was barely enough, it would pay for books, and the liberty to complain was another leisure she couldn't afford.

And as much as she hated the job, she hated delays in getting it done, especially the unexpected ones of writhing bodies and tangled limbs in the utility closet where her tools were stored.