Sofia Carson here. I am a bookstore clerk. I spend my time among dusty bookcases, many customers, and the fragrance of old paper wafting through the air. Several afternoons seem to stretch forever, while weekends bring steady lines of curious readers. One calm Tuesday afternoon, I was busy restocking the shelves when I picked up a Black Mint Lost Mary that a coworker had left on the counter. The refreshing taste suited the calm atmosphere of our little bookshop. Working with books has taught me patience, which is exactly how I feel when I indulge in this habit.
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