Sharon's—official first day of independence had started out well, with a nice hot shower where she masturbated until she came loudly. That helped her relax immensely. But by the time she fixed her flat hair that really needed some sort of mousse or gel, and dressed in another boring plain T-shirt-and-capris ensemble, the headache lurking in back of her head came on full force. Her hunger pains also turned to cramps. All these signs predicted her period. Unfortunately she'd didn't have anything she needed, no pills for her discomfort or tampons to stop the flow that would come in the next few hours, judging by the spotting she found in her underwear.
Upon opening her door, the bright sun blinded her, making her headache even worse than it already was. At least she had her sunglasses to block the light. She needed pills to numb the pain, tampons, caffeine, and some sort of sustenance before she started gnawing on her nails again.
The sight of Woodberry Creek in the daylight was very different from when she'd first arrived. The street in front of her bustled with cars and people. The stores were open and the smell of baked pastries called out to her. Maybe she would go up to the front desk and ask for a map or advice on where to go .
Aha! She spotted a drugstore called Meede's on the corner to her right. She patted down her pockets where her wallet and hotel room key were, and started walking that way.
The walk took her less than ten minutes and when she opened the door, a bell rang. What's with this town and bells? Shaking her head, she glanced up at the signs above the aisles to find what she wanted. First she grabbed a bottle of Midol, then went in search of her favorite brand of tampons.
Seeing she was all alone, she opened the Midol bottle, and quickly swallowed three of the blue pills without water. Yellow-black dots had appeared in front of her eyes, warning a migraine was imminent unless she took the pills. She'd also buy a hot water bottle while she was there, just in case her cramps became too much.
There were too many brands of tampons to count—all except the ones she wanted. “How can they not have the tampons I like?” Deborah muttered irritably, and as she leaned down to pick up a box of tampons on sale, a breezy female voice spoke beside her.
“You know, you shouldn't bend over like that. You might pull your back. I also recommend Meede's tampons over the ones you're picking. The ones you're about to choose can be too bulky, if you catch my meaning.”
Deborah stood up too fast, wincing as a pain shot down her spine. She arched her back for a moment, holding the box she was going to buy along with the bottle of pills that fell out of her hand and dropped to the ground. The blue tablets puddled over the floor.
“Great.” Deborah rubbed her palm over her face and started to kneel down when a hand landed on her arm. She sprang away from the touch.
“Sorry about that. I didn't mean to intrude on your personal space. Stay where you are. I'll clean this up.”
The woman sat down on her heels and picked up the pills. Deborah couldn't see her, face and only the top of her head encircled in different shades of blinding red curls.
She almost started to walk away, but then the woman, who came a few inches past her chin, smiled ruefully and held out the bottle. Deborah quickly scanned the petite, close-to-plump woman wearing a short denim skirt and a sleeveless white button-down shirt with matching white sandals displaying her magenta-colored toes.
“Um, thanks,” Deborah said hesitantly, trying her best not to touch the woman as she took back the bottle. The woman with the bright red hair gave her a big smile, her lips too wide for her face. Deborah wouldn't say she was attractive—perhaps passingly pretty at the most, with very noticeable curves in all the right places.
“Don't worry about the spill. Timmy won't chase you away for making a mess.”
“Timmy?” Deborah asked