Running light for work, the woman danced around the house with one-legged hops, alternating between legs until both feet were completely through the slots of her pants. Meanwhile, her arms flailing across the room, one busy with the toothbrush in her mouth while the other was punching keys upon her phone's screen in desperation to send a message to someone, anyone, that she would certainly be late today. Somehow she manages through the chaos, able to make it out in one piece but most importantly fitted sensibly for her job. The only obstacle left was the dreaded bus ride that would indeed be jammed back with other tardy bodies who failed to prepare promptly for their daily careers. Cursing softly to herself, she makes her way out the door, her flats tapping against the ground as her heels swing in her hand, dangling off the light curled grasps of her fingertips.
"Better late than never." An individual who passes her greets as she flies past him. But obviously, they had no clue of her boss, none at all. The assertion and strictness of his nature, along with his quickness to punish any minor infraction severely. He is feared as much as he is well respected. And it is out of such respect that she tries her best to meet his every demand, along with the significant praises he offers her following every completed task. Never before had she found herself in such a predicament, but little did she know that it could always get worse.