The alarm on my phone rang through my ears as it woke me from a dreamless sleep. I cursed under my breath when I saw the sun peering in through my curtains. I missed the morning prayer. Well that's what happens when you sleep at three a.m.
What happened last night? Did I really see Post Malone? Did he take down Gucci in front of my eyes? If we did, it would be everywhere on the news so I picked up my phone from the nightstand to check the news.
'Toronto Gucci branch of distribution in ashes!'
Yep it was everywhere.
'Where is Gucci CEO Alexandra Gordon?'
'CEO of Gucci Adult-napped?'
So, the woman in the car last night was Alexandra Gordon. Most of the articles said that there were no known suspects and no reported deaths in the explosion so we got away. But I gotta say, I had fun being bad.
My phone rang a 'No Caller ID' number and I cleared my throat from my ugly morning voice.
"Hey, Farah," It was Micheal.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked trying to hide the rough voice coming from my mouth.
"Nothing. Did you just wake up?" Darn it. I hate mornings.
"Then, good morning babe. Can you come over Monday around 6 pm?"
"Si can't access the money. Gold wants you to do it,"he said.
"Can you pick me up after work?"
"Yeah. See you," then, he hung up
I washed up and left my room, into the empty hallway. The house was still quiet so I assumed no one had woken up yet, which is not a surprise because for as long as I can remember, I'm usually the first to wake up. No matter how late in the afternoon it is.
Descending on the stairs, I looked up to the ceiling where a massive crystal chandelier hung. I didn't turn on the lights because the hallway was filled with the early noon sun rays from the big window of my room.
I carefully and quietly took each step, trying hard not to wake anyone, down the dark maple hardwood flooring while sliding my fingers down the matching railing.
When I reached the main floor, headed to the kitchen and began filling myself with baby carrots, while scrolling through Instagram. I reached for the kiwis in the fridge when I realized I had eaten a whole bag of carrots. I peeled the washed and peeled the kiwis in the pullout garbage bin and sliced them with knife. Using the same knife, I poked each slice and slid it into my mouth where the sourness of the fruit filled and blessed my mouth.
I was interrupted by the doorbell. If there was a silent button on the doorbell, I would've used it. I didn't want anyone to wake up yet.
Who was it?
Mailman ? Nope, they usually put the mail in the mailbox.
Sail reps from Bell? Nah, it's Sunday.
Cousins? Oh Lord.
I grabbed a hijab from the hook behind the door and took a deep breath. There was banging on the door now. They were so impatient. I put on the biggest smile I could find in my emotion closet and unlocked the door.
YOU ARE READING
Roses and WeedRomance
A young Afghan-Canadian girl cannot be recruited into a gang. Can she? When her past comes strolling back into her life, this young hacker must get her hands dirty to free herself from troubles she chose to live with. Soon she realizes even when her...