[center][color=lightpink][h1]Heather Abrams[/h1][/color][/center]

Another busy shift.

It was a busy time at The Cracked Window, one of the city's most popular tourist restaurants. There was a fair going on nearby and that meant lots of hungry people who didn't want to shell out their money for corn dogs and funnel cakes. Heather was busy tending the bar this time, keeping an eye on her guests while she mixed drinks for the other servers. It wasn't a big restaurant, it probably had only 50 tables, not including the outside tables that most liked to sit at on a beautiful day like today.

Though she had her own headaches to deal with. For starters, she had to tell the woman at her countertop that, for the last time, they didn't have sushi here, it wasn't a Japanese restaurant. The pervy man at Table 2 had to be told that no, her breasts were not on the menu. The family at Table 6 had an annoying child who kept screaming, even though his parents continued to make googly eyes at each other. Heather was tempted to pick the child up and fling him across the room, but that would be bad for business.

She almost never used her gifts at work. There were times she had to reach for something on the top shelf and used her telekinesis to get it down. Other times she served her own brand of justice to irritable guests, but never would she ever do it in public. It wasn't easy, any amount of anger she showed could be costly and she didn't want to find out just how powerful she is when she's mad.

So she continued to make drinks and server burgers and fries to the hungry patrons. She was making a killing, at least, and she had the next day off to be able to enjoy the fair.