She made it outside to the back alley before she’d realized it. She didn’t really think about how she’d gotten there. She knew she was finally alone. She thought she’d be safe from the failure that was swallowing her from the inside out. But the feeling intensified.

She was left alone with her own thoughts.

She wished she could cry again. Wished she could rage. But this feeling was more like the slow loss of feeling. She was aware of herself shutting down. Like she was outside herself, watching it happen.

Here stands Rinn Olivera, human failure.

Rinn slid down the alley wall, curled her knees to her chest, and held tightly on to herself.

She had failed.

Rinn had never failed at anything before in her life. She’d always managed to get it all the way across the line. Always managed to push through. But there was nothing left to push through. Here were the results in black and white. They didn’t have the funds to keep the bookstore open. They didn’t make the funds to see her vision through.

Failure. It was inevitable, and it was her own doing. Rinn felt that. It was the only feeling she really had left. She wasn’t enough, and she hadn’t done enough, and she would never be enough, maybe ever again.

The back door slammed open, and Imogen came out. Her face was all worried and scrunched up. “Are you okay?”

Rinn reached her arm out, and Imogen came and sat beside her. “Not really.”

Daniella dashed through the door next. “I told them all I was having a hand cramp and to give me a five-minute break. Would you believe it, everyone was cool with it.” Daniella paused, realizing that now was not the time. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“The bookstore is going to close,” said Rinn.

Daniella plopped down next to Rinn. “Of course the bookstore is going to close. Nothing was ever saved in a day, except in the movies.”

“We failed,” said Rinn. “I failed.”

Imogen shook her head. “That depends on your definition of failure.”

“There’s only one definition,” said Rinn. “We were meant to save the bookstore. We were the last hope. And we didn’t get it across the line. We didn’t even get close. Okay, we got close, but we either have to pick storing the books for a month or finding a storefront, and we barely have time to even do one of them. We can’t even save the books. What was I thinking? We failed.”

“Excuse me,” said Imogen. “There I take umbrage.”

“Ohhh, umbrage. Excellent word. I’ll have to note that down in my notebook. It’s got great syllabication, too,” said Daniella.