Wednesdays were slow days.

Sana sat on the foldable stool inside the truck, her feet propped on the counter and her back leaning against the other side. She flipped the pages of her dark romance novel, looking for the bookmark she remembered tucking in last night. It was a piece of silver wrapper that came with a stick of chewing gum. She had added a lipstick print onto it and doodled around it in red marker. It wasn’t a revelation that her artistic skills needed work because when she assessed the result, she knew it would have been better if she had left it untouched. Sana couldn’t find another piece of paper so she’d just stuck with it. It really didn’t matter to her because she lost her bookmarks eventually. But she’d always be able to know where she stopped reading. Not this time. She’d been so distracted grappling with recurring thoughts of Dax that she’d not paid attention.