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Minutes Pass

A hiss slipped from my lips as I patted the deep scratches on my arm with an alcohol soaked ball of cotton. My eyes narrowed on the cat licking herself on my couch, shooting me the stink-eye of the decade, like I had the audacity to give her a bath. “Jackass,” I muttered at her. “And this is how you repay me? You think you’re going to stay here while you’re plagued with fleas? Think again.” The cat remained still, shooting me a dirty look before she resumed her licking spree. “I really hope you don’t have some kind of disease that’s going to make me sick.” I hadn’t had a shot against rabies so if she did have something, I was likely screwed. I couldn’t afford going to get one either. And, as an added bonus, my pharmacy was out of stock of shots too. I had to turn down a few customers already who wanted to purchase some. At this rate, I’ll lose all of them if I don't find a way to get more stock, and soon. My shoulders sagged and I lowered the ball of cotton. Who was I kidding? There’s

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