For a while now the girl had been trying to get the box on the top shelf. It was food, she was sure. Although she could barely read, she remembered the images on the box from when her mother would feed her. Expiry dates were not even on her radar.
At this point, she was standing perched on a precarious pile of random objects she had picked up around the restaurant. Entirely unafraid of falling (or perhaps just determined to eat), she pulled herself on her tip-toes and scrabbled with her free hand at the box. Thankfully this time (and there had been many attempts) she succeeded. The box toppled from the shelf, miraculously remaining intact as it tumbled its way down to the floor. Delighted, the child scrambled down to retrieve it.
Paranoia kicked in once she had it in hand, though. The kind of paranoia one develops when scrounging for food among other street folk. She needed to retreat somewhere familiar - somewhere safe.
Immediately, she launched herself at the far wall. She knew the alleyway was on the other side, and concentrated on "
through". One moment she was in the abandoned restaurant. The next she was gasping silently at the shock of water on her face.
Unfortunately, she was not very well practiced at getting objects through with her. The edge of the box caught just as she stepped through, wresting it from her hands onto the ground with a loud splat. The child scowled and stepped back to grab it, only to freeze in place once she realized she wasn't alone.
