8

Morning, Marwa." Now you're smiling.

This is the part of the morning you don't detest, witnessing this dance they do — Hakeem diving over the counter for his notepad as Marwa continues to talk to you.

"You off to work now?" Marwa moves further away from the till and Hakeem sighs from yet another defeat. "Please, grace my ears and tell me you're looking for something else."

"'Fraid not." You confirm. Marwa doesn't look pleased and honestly neither are you. You play it off with a non-committal shrug. "It's only a job."

"A job you don't like." Marwa sucks her teeth at you. "Tell me again, how long you been there now?"

"Two years." Give or take a couple of months.

"Two years!" She repeats, throwing her hands into the air. Hakeems notepad almost flies over a shelf. "Two years of a job you don't like!"

She's not wrong. The job, the boss, the commute. All of it is terrible.