Kemuri hasn't seen the man for the past two weeks. She was initially apprehensive about how she felt about him but soon wanted to see him. Not in a weird way, but his unconventional humor and attentive ears made what would be a stressful moment in a ditch less... dark. She wonders if the pun was intentional or not.

She just finished the day's quota faster than usual. Maybe it was the thought of him. She tried not to care. She made her way through the crowded streets of London. Then she passed a bakery but spun back when her nose was held hostage by the sweet smell of her favorite snack. Out of all the treats one can stuff in a bakery, this was the cheapest yet nicest thing to munch on. The thought of sinking her teeth into one made her drool.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She checked her almost-empty wallet and jumped to see if she had just had enough. 5 GBP. She rushed into the bakery. The way all the breads were shelfed was like a labyrinth of starch, but her nose guided her to her destination. There it was, neatly stacked against each other on the oak shelves.

Banana bread.

She was about to grasp one, but her optimism shattered when she saw the price tag. "6 GBP!" she shouted in a tired tone to the receptionist with a cap on.

"And 99 pence, dear," the receptionist added. Kemuri almost cried. I can't even afford banana freakin bread. She dragged herself out of the doorway until a meaty hand grabbed her wrist.