The grey downcast day of Forks found Maura at the local store – the necessary tedious activity of grocery shopping. Cold rain slammed hard against her as she leapt from the dark blue Porsche, coat held above her head as she hurried from the darkening street into the warmth of the artificially lit supermarket. Still regardless of her gained speed and the jacket she held above her by the time she reached the aisle of trolleys, she was soaked. She had obviously just come straight from work, the long skirt falling halfway down her calves, sensible black heels adorned and a simple white blouse now hurriedly being covered with the brown tinged leather jacket. With a sigh she pulled forth her shopping list absolutely dripping, ink smudged and running – there went that well planned idea.

This was to be her second week in Forks and already she had barely spoken to anyone. She supposed she should have expected it really… in a little town where news travelled quickly who was about to make conversation with the local pathologist who spends her everyday with corpses. People didn’t understand, instantly they thought ‘strange’ and ‘morbid’. And certainly she wasn’t the type of woman to get involved with the older women and their trips to the salon, bake sales and flower committees. Long dark hair fall around her shoulders as she quietly moved through the market, trolley beneath pale hands lightly pushing, eyes scanning over her depressingly useless damp list before glancing around her knowing full well she was going to forget something of importance. She did that with a list let alone without!

Pausing in the fruit section she racked her mind to attempt to remember what she already had at home and what had been upon her list. Milk… she must remember milk least she go without a cup of tea to wake her up in the morning! Oh and bread and what was that other thing… Distracted in her thoughts she barely noticed as she placed the fresh apples and strawberry’s into the trolley before continuing upon her way that she was heading directly for another. Her head quite in the clouds mentally trying to picture her cupboards and what wasn’t in them.

CRASH. With a harsh thud the edge of her trolley collided with another’s, poor slightly klutz Maura barely able to remain upon her feet, knuckles white gripping the handle.
“I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed breathlessly, cheeks flushed that deep crimson as she stammered her apology – humiliated. “I wasn’t looking, I’m so sorry.” She could barely glance up at her poor victim.