Ancient Love [WIP]

Chapter Two | Shipment

Shipment
/ˈʃɪpm(ə)nt/

noun

1. The action of shipping goods.
2. A quantity of goods shipped; a consignment.

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"...I like my coffee with two sugars in it, High heels and my jewelry dripping, Drink and I get all fired up, Insecure but I'm working with it..." - Woman Like Me - Little Mix

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It always seems impossible, until it's done

Present Day
~ Today ~

At the Museum

The resounding click of Zahra's animal print heels against the polished concrete floor, enveloped the empty hallway. With each graceful stride her handbag swung in time, a silent melody to her body. Her slim legs were concealed but accentuated by her black cigarette pants. 

Her left arm clad in the fitted blazers sleeve, had begun to cramp from the angle at which she held her Surface Pro tablet along with many pages of notes. Among those pages included a crisp manila folder containing the still recently printed warm paper of documents and images relating to their latest tomb discovery. 

Her right hand held a ceramic panda shaped mug, filled with freshly brewed coffee, held half an arms length away from her textured ivory blouse. The fear of staining her top, whispering in the back of her mind always ensured she had enough distance between her clothes and her liquid savior. God forbid if someone were to bump into her. 

Nearing the metal double doors, the 'Staff Only', vinyl sticker caught the light as she pushed the left side of her body through. Keeping her coffee high to dodge the swinging doors. The hallway was void of any humans but the buzz in the air told another story, to the right, down another hallway there were renovations to expand their laboratory. As she continued to her destination her ears picked up on how the drilling and hammering became distant, submerging her silence. 

Once more, the click of her heels was the only sound in her eardrums. Turning left down another hallway she slowed her steps as she had to switch her coffee - carefully - into her left hand, the balancing act straining her arm further. With her right hand now empty she was able to open the twist handle to her sanctuary, the study. 

The room was almost always unoccupied, being the perfect spot for her to get absorbed into her work. Especially when she was translating hieroglyphics--much like the plan today, having no distractions, allowed her to work in depth and in peace. Flipping the switch beside the door frame, her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lights flickering on, illuminating the work space. 

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips, they still hadn't fixed the one light with the broken circuit - it's irregular flickering was not only an eyesore but an unneeded distraction. Walking towards her favourite bench-- it was in the middle of the room. A perfect distance from the window, ensuring she didn't overheat from the summer sun, but also from the over powered air-conditioner.