This article was written by Mr. Garrison. Please do not make any changes to this fiction without receiving the author's consent.
|Created By:||Mr Garrison|
|Original Channel:||That DWF Channel|
|Original Run:||2008 - ?|
This article is written from an in-universe point of view.
The rain hammered down on the roof of the hair salon, and Casey Smith could hear it; it was deafening. She swept up a pile of hair which had dropped onto the floor with her battered old broom. She needed a new broom, but knew the only way she would get a new one would be by spending her own money on it, and she wasn't going to do that. As she returned to her seat she looked out of the window, the shutters of the abandoned shop across the road were rusting and were like a sore thumb sticking out in Casey's opinion. However, it had been mentioned by many people that the building across the road had recently been bought and that the new management should be starting anytime soon.
The clock finally hit 5:00pm; end of the day. Casey exited the hair salon and was welcomed out of work with a downpour of rain. Great, she thought, now I'm going to be freezing cold. Her job at the hair salon was not as glamorous as she first believed it would be. She imagined herself cutting, trimming and doing absolutely anything to people's hair while being paid a good deal of money for it, but no, it hadn't been like that. In fact, for the past six months, Casey had been stuck sweeping floors and cleaning up after everyone else, with no chances of expressing herself or revealing her creativity.