It didn't take long for Kejirah to get...irritated. Under normal circumstances, she would've been a-okay, but these weren't normal circumstances, and everything was not a-okay.
She sat next to her truck tire, growing impatient under the midday sun as the heat beat down on her forehead, causing beads of sweat to form and roll down her cheeks slowly and disgustingly, which she immediately wiped off. See, usually Kejirah was unbothered by sweat, but that was when she was doing something active to cause it, not by being harassed by the giant flaming ball of gas in space, something that had no place causing her this much distress. Exercise sweat was attractive. Skin-melting-off-by-sun was not. Even if there weren't any people around. Which there wasn't since she was parked in a deserted gas station, a place that could have easily been a murder scene sometime in the past decade. There was a little ounce of temptation to explore the badly beat up shack of a building, but that would mean touching something to get inside, and she was quite sure that if she did, she'd get tetanus. And die. In the middle of nowhere. Now, those with some amount sense would say that that scenario would be a little unrealistic, and to that she would respond: "Fuck you," with a dramatic flip of her hair as would anyone else with an overactive imagination.
Not only that, but she didn't want to move more than a foot in any direction. Which was another perfectly valid reason for not taking advantage of this opportunity.
Leaning over and holding her chin in her hands, 'Jirah pulled out her phone and tapped into messages. She could hardly see the screen even with the brightness all the way up, so she cupped her hand over the top and leaned her head in further to see. Pulling up a distress message (decorated with at least a dozen sigh and anger emojis) she had sent at least an hour earlier to a close friend, she wanted to check if he had got it, but when she tapped onto their conversation, the same red lettered phrase came up.
message not delivered!
The young woman groaned out loud and stood up, holding her phone in the air in different places while repeatedly hitting the side of it, attempting (and not succeeding) to get at least two bars of service. After a few disappointing moments, she lowered her arms in defeat and climbed into her truck flinging her phone in the passenger seat. This trip was supposed to be fun. Refreshing even. But right now, it was neither. It was hot. So very hot.
Starting up the engine, Kejirah pulled out of the abandoned place accompanied by the stifling heat and no A/C, she nearly had her head out of the window like a dog to try and feel something that resembled a breeze. A breeze would've been nice, instead she got blasted by the heat of a hundred furnaces. Recoiling, she realized how quickly things were going downhill as she sped down the burning road, on her way as she would soon figure out: Coalfell.
Passing through a town, or what seemed like one, she noticed a small, old-timey looking diner with a parking lot that resembled hell for anything with tires but she pulled into it, music blaring. She hadn't realized how hungry and not to mention tired she was until she came to a stop. Turning off her truck, a yellow hummer she would often brag, she grabbed her useless phone, eyeing it like it had done something wrong before heading inside, sweat still covering her body.
"Ahh, air conditioniiiing!" She exclaimed in a sing-song voice as she pushed the door open, a small bell rung cheerfully. At first she thought it was supposed to be a nice welcome for anyone who came in, as anyone would normally think, but she soon realized it was a signal to the people already inside not that there was a new customer, but someone new in general. Soon, the air conditioning felt stale as conversations became quiet whispers and she could feel eyes on her.
"What is this, a western saloon?" She asked rhetorically, giving off a laugh with a hint of nervousness underneath.
She took a seat at one of the stools up front, smiling at those who passed by. Soon enough, the conversations started back up to her relief. Weird. She thought as she leaned over onto the counter, finally able to take a good look around. At first glance, the diner, known as Momma May's, seemed like a hot mess but as the eyes adjusted, there was more life to it than what was on the outside. A red and white theme overwhelmed the space a little bit, but with all of the chatter going on, it made it homier. There were seats lined up against the windows and walls that had puffy, red leather cushions and off-white tables, most of them filled. The tile floor looked recently swept, which was surprising because she definitely wouldn't have expected it from this town. She was quite sure Coalfell wasn't large enough to have health inspectors. Pictures of old couples and past workers lined the yellowish walls (she wasn't sure whether they were originally that color or not) that acted like a nostalgic timeline of the small building. On the right side, there was a larger space that held a rickety stage with faded wine red curtains decorating each side and a poster that said "Karaoke Night on Fridays!" which was a bit ominous. But also interesting. Round tables circled the stage containing two chairs each, some of them four. Now this was the kind of place she was hoping to encounter.
Smiling to herself, she continued to patiently wait for her food to be ordered, propping her elbow up and sitting her head on her hand. She noticed the people next to her kept giving her small glances but didn't say anything else. Suddenly, she straightened up and looked around. She was going to need somewhere to sleep.
"Hey hey! Kejirah called out to the crowd, who immediately stopped talking. "Does anyone know of a good place to stay around here? She looked around, hoping someone would answer her call.
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