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From humble beginnings, through strife

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7:35 AM

Los Santos

San Andreas


*Beep beep beep...*.
The bed sheets start to move as she reaches for the alarm clock.
*bee-.* *Thud* Silence filled the room.

"Good morning Anna, I know you ignored the alarm clock again, it's time to get up."


"Shut up"

Sitting up on the bed she briefly rubs her eyes.

"Conchita, what's the haps?"

"It's may the 16th, It's currently mostly clear skies with peak temperature reaching 72 degrees, It is also your birthday."

"Conchita, play ICONIC on Splotchify."





One after the other she gets up on her feet.

Lumbering across the room she enters the bathroom.
"Conchita, lights please."
She stops at the vanity, frazzles her hair and takes a look into the mirror.





"28 huh? Where has the time gone."
She freshens herself up, turns around and steps on the floor scale behind her.
"68, Oink oink piggie, should hold off the booze a little."
"And why am I monologuing?"

Walking to the kitchen she stops at the door.
The previous owner of the house had been marking down someone's heights on the door frame.
Looking at the measurements.
"Why not"
Stepping in the kitchen she stopped at the corner cabinet, opened it.
"Now where did i put that tape measure?"
"Here you are" as she grabs the tape measure and a pencil from the cabinet.
She makes her way back to the door, grabbing a book from the end table on the other side of the door.
Facing the door frame with her back, she puts the book above her head perpendicular to the wall and scores a line with the pencil.

She turns around, places the book back on the table and unrolls the tape measure against the wall.

"174, take that... Claire? you midget."


The pan starts crackling as she cracks two eggs into it

"Conchita, give me today's headlines"

"These are today's stories from the San Andreas News network: President Ronald Grump contemplates the truth behind the flat earth theory. LSFD issues level 5 fire hazard due to dry weather. The Silent Stigma of Mental Illness in the Church. And Nemo finally found."
She turns off the oven.
"Jesus freaks on the news again? Give it a rest"
A plate of eggs and bacon in her hand she stops at the front door, today's mail laying on the floor.
Shoving the mail around with her foot she stops and picks one up.
"To Anna Pohl from Estonia, must be from mom, yay."


To be continued.

Edited by Valgus
To be edited at my leasure as I develop this story.

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