"Thank you very much, please come again."
One sentence, seven words, nine syllables, thirty one letters, and three point four seconds of her life, all wasted on a phrase she's been saying every single day for the past two hundred years. Oh, but it wasent a problem really, it was just too familiar. It was too ordinary coming from the mouth of a girl who was anything but.
Breena Orla followed the last person out of her bakery, flower shop hybrid of a buisness, and flipped the rectangular 'open' sign to 'closed'. As she walked down the quiet streets of the outskirts of the city she lived in, she thought about how much joy she got, living in this world...so much happiness she got seeing so many happy humans.... So why did she feel so much pain? This was what she wanted, THIS was what she had begged for all those years back home. And it was everything she had imagined it would be. So...why was there always this feeling of not being whole. This feeling of not being wanted...
The feeling that in a world of seven billion, she was all alone.