I went down to the market at dawn and unlocked the front door.

The air inside smelled of fresh cardboard and pine cleaner.

I started the coffee machine in the back room and threw away the old filters.

The scuffed linoleum felt cold under my boots.

I wiped down the front register counter with a damp rag.

Emma’s strawberry swirl ice cream loyalty card was tucked under the glass tray.

We needed two more punches for a free cup.

I spent an hour sorting small boxes of cereal on the bottom shelf, trying to keep my hands busy.