It Hits the Fan

Amaya

“Fuck,” I muttered as I fumbled with the new set of keys. I just wanted to get the fuck home, but I still had to figure out how to drive this thing.

It had started off when my car had given up the ghost that morning after I arrived for work. I had intended to go out and grab some coffee for the rest of the staff, but the engine basically shuddered and died right there on the spot, finally done for. It had been threatening to break down for months, and I had never had the time or the money to get it fixed. I could have just called Kristo and asked him to lend us one of his cars, but the insurance company had given me a new one before it even crossed my mind, and I didn’t want to bother him.

Then, of course, things had taken a turn into the even-worse when I’d had a confrontation with one of the younger librarians. She had picked up her job a little later than me, and it hadn’t been what she wanted.

“Please, can you just give this a little time?” I had asked her, but she had shake