In the street of New York, people are always rushing, trying to race with time to earn more money
But not Cassandra.
Here she was, drunk in the middle of the day, taking her time wandering around and struggling to walk in a straight line.
She looked around and wondered why these people wore bleary, poker faces as they talked on their phones while walking briskly down the street. She was thankful she was self-employed as she would call it.
Cassandra took a deep breath, the taste of beer still lingering in her mouth. She had been drinking since lunch time just because she felt it. It took all her effort to walk slowly while trying hard not to drop on the ground every time passersby bumped into her as they rushed along their way. She felt her way to the wall and leaned against it, breathing heavily. Her hands were getting numb, her feet loosing their strength..
"I'm going to faint right here if I don't find somewhere to rest",she thought as she walked toward the nearest store and dropped on the bottom step,trying to keep her nausea at bay. Her phone started ringing. She didn't answer. She knew it was her father and he had been asking to see her since last week. She should probably call him tomorrow just to get it over with.
Cassandra didn't have a problem, she didnt. When she had ordered her first bottle, she reasoned she wanted to celebrate her upcoming exhibit. When the second one came, she thought she was celebrating life. Then bottles kept on coming and thoughts of celebration flew out the window.
She stood up after her head cleared a little bit. She needed a cup of coffee, and she knew just the place. The rest must have done something good for she found it less difficult to find her way to the coffee shop.
