They were all of them, huddled in a corner at the Planet, considering the day with some bit of terror as Marina swayed amongst the customers to deliver their respective mugs of coffee. Her cheeks were strained against a forced smile as she consigned fruit platters to three women with mixed expressions of delight, passiveness, and unease.

Alright, Marina said, her voice deep with the inflection of worry. It isnt a good day for any of us so Im not even going to ask.

Shot, Shane marketed, raising a hand as though she was drowning. Her eyes were blotched and brimming with the flush of dilemmas not solved from the day before.

Dana did not bother to turn to Marina, forking through her fruits with nonchalance, and said, Im okay, thanks. She seemed occupied, meddling with her thoughts as her fork did the same with her food. Nothing consumed, everything played with. Anxiety at the mere thought of tasting something interestingdangerous.

Their host gave Tina a look of expectancy.

Um, bagel? Tina said. She took a sip of her coffee and the taste of it brought a new focus to the way Marina was incessantly looking to the door, as though expecting someone. Francesca, perhaps? And something sinfully sweet for all of us. I think they need it. Under her breath, You do, too.

Marina glided off, barking orders in a swift, exotic monotone that exposed her mood, bad and souring. A few moments later, one of her assistants came trudging by to deposit Tinas bagel, Shanes formidable shot of morning alcohol, and three pieces of something sweet that looked like brownies except they were brimming with walnuts and was glazed over in melted chocolate.

A special fruit shake was placed beside Dana, who barely noticed it.

Shane downed her shot and stared at her truck keys, wondering perhaps, if picking them up would turn them to poisonous snakes. Her butt was halfway out of the chair.

Leaving already? Tina asked.

Huh? Shane did a double-take and smiled shyly, caught in the act of planning an escape. No, no. Of course not. ***** day, thats all. She eased into her seat again and fingered one of two rings. Dressed in slightly less appalling wear, darker with the leather pants she sported, she sagged into the scenery, like a wet mop. Her hair was drawn downwards, emphasizing the trouble in her eyes.