Christmas carols can be heard throughout the garage as her workers moved slowly and lazily around. She expected that business will slow down for a while. With the snow beginning to fall, she knew that no one in their right mind would dare drive their car on this kind of weather.
It's snowing. She shivered just thinking about the word. As if the temperature in her office dropped down a notch. She snuggled and wrapped her thick jacket around her small frame. Her body doesn't seem to adjust to the weather. She can't complain much though, having lived in California for almost her entire life, she knew she isn't built for this kind of weather.
She took a sip of coffee… she found the hotness scalding her tongue and throat comforting in this unfriendly weather.
She turned her attention to all pile of papers she's been reviewing and signing. The stack of papers seems to be twice higher the last time she checked. She's never great with administrative kind of works. It wasn't her thing. Though lately, since she doesn't much have a choice, she's improved a bit.
There's a heap of mail on the edge of the table, majority of which are utility bills which needs to be paid in a couple of weeks. She took one and saw that it's due on the 17th. She let out a long sigh as she looked at the calendar hanged at her wall. December 12, December 12. It's been exactly 5 years since the day she moved to Canada. 5 years when she left her life in L.A.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to wallow in sadness of the things she missed. Her friends, her life, the one she loved most. She left L.A. broken. Feeling that during those times it was the best thing to do. For 5 years, she went through feeling shit for leaving, regretting her decision to accepting her fate and coping up with her new life.
Ofcourse, she missed them once in a while and she allows herself to miss them. When she left, she didn't force herself to forget about them. She loved them too much she cannot make herself forget them and not miss them.
Though as much as she missed them, she cannot bring herself to at least call all of them, to check on them or just to let them know she's out there, alive. Not once in the past 5 years. Partly because she is scared that they will hate her for what she did and she cannot bear to think about it and partly because she's doing okay on her own and felt that she should move on.
She opened her eyes and took a pen and one of the papers on her desk. She signed her name on the last page, "Letty Ortiz".