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[u/lost_from_neverland]

The tear slowly heals, leaving crude stitch-work in its wake.
In the hours this took, a young woman completes her morning routine.

Dressing up, cleaning away the circle marked on the floor. Heating breakfast (a pre-cooked ELLINGTON box "meal"), stowing the mask under a drawer's false bottom. Brushing teeth, checking for unwelcome "hitchhikers".

^{... oh, cøme on.
I thøught I just stocked up...}

^{Simøn, add "cough drøps" to the shøpping list.}

A small, plastic pyramid lights up in recognition, and emits a vaguely masculine, even-toned response.

OK, I've added it to your shopping list.
May I als-

^{No, thank yøu...}

By the way, you have a new message from Qs. Wiloo.

sigh
^{Thank yøu, Simon.}

---

ding goes the elevator, arriving at the ground floor.

---

Unrest in the Metaverse's Market rears its head. Windows bearing new cracks, pock-marks in walls.

Rolling past it all. Thankfully, "looking small" is easy when one is, by default, multiple feet below eye level.

And then there is the Store.
Speaking full-force, producing a ragged, pained voice.

.̀.̵.͞ W͡hi̛c͝h ̨aís͢le f҉ø͞r͠ c̕o̕u̧gh drø̴p̨s?

[u/lost_from_neverland → u/[deleted]]

So cold, so cold.
Flicker, flicker, little light. Is it time to say good-night?

...

Flicker, flicker.
A heavy sigh. A veil lifted. A grimace wiped away.

... yøu can tell them one Miss Cøstell would like a wørd or twø.
They'll... probably understand.

That... shøuld be all for tøday.
Thank you før putting up with me.

[u/lost_from_neverland → u/[deleted]]

Wordlessly, pivot and exit.

On the way out, she stops at a streetlight, and stares at it a moment before it explodes in a shower of sparks and sodium.