Golden Treasure
She drummed her fingernails against the table almost six feet away from the barista. The hunt would commence, and she would need caffeine for the journey. School had just let out and teenagers were very predictable. They would come flooding into the mall at any minute and she would need to fight them for what was rightfully hers.
“Non-fat, white mocha with no whip?”
Mira nodded before reaching for her beverage. If they hope she’d come after announcing her drink order, then what was the point of asking for her name? No matter. She adjusted her facemask so she could take a sip before moving towards the beating heart of the mall.
She had been stupid. She was enjoying herself and forgot the time. With all the line-waiting and “this store can hold 10 people at a time max” signs everywhere, she would need to be swift. The mall was still crowded with people except now they avoided you as if you had some outwardly visible skin disease. She loved it because she was no longer subjected to the closeness of a stranger who thought personal hygiene was just an option.
Gripping her venti cup, she maneuvered skillfully through the ambling herd. There it was – Morphe. She grimaced when she saw a line. Stores stocked even less products than they used to because most people were buying things online versus having to emerge from their homes and put on their dreaded facemask. She tapped her foot and moved her mask to sip her liquid strength that was neatly presented in a cardboard cup.
“Welcome to Morphe! Please sanitize,” the woman paused her tired spiel to squeeze a generous portion of hand sanitizer into Mira's hand. “Please refrain from testing any of the products and do not hesitate to ask one of our staff for assistance.”
She nodded and practically ran in. For a moment she was lost – where were the eyeshadow palettes? She spotted them in the corner but when she got there, the golden one was sold out. She stood there for a moment, cursing her own stupidity until out of the corner of her eye she spotted a glint. She watched a girl lay down the golden palette with a loss of interest in the section with translucent powder. She tried to move as smoothly as a spy in an old film noir but instead she zipped towards the golden palette with the grace of an exploding zeppelin.
The golden gleam called to her and she snatched it as if, at any moment, it would be ripped from her hands. She had more to purchase but she needed to lock in this sale. When she inserted her credit card in the slot, she finally took a breath.
The golden treasure was hers.