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Weekly Contest #68
A single drop of sweat had collected on Zemirah’s temple. She breathed heavily into her face mask. She clutched her bag handle then wiped her clammy palms. The line to the teller's desk was growing shorter by the minute. Zemirah was becoming anxious thinking about all the possible problems that would occur within the next 10 minutes. Zemirah’s leg buzzed. Quickly, she silenced her phone and searched her notifications. There was a message from Francesa: “look up z!! u cant get spacey rn >:(“ 2m ago Zemirah’s cheeks reddened as ...
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