Luke Chang

Julia

Isabella rose with the rising sun, just as she always had. She made her bed and then started making some coffee. She flipped the radio on, not really listening but grateful for the noise which ended the silence in the room. She made toast, slathered on some butter, and then poured herself some coffee and headed down to her store. She could see the busy street through the storefront windows. It was foggy. She adored the fog. At least, she adored how it looked when she was standing at her counter, looking out.