How to handle a staff Stories

Moira ran her chipped red nails through her raven-colored hair and clenched her deep-set eyes. The brightening room offered her no quarter from the light of the rising sun. The throbbing, stabbing pain was the final payment for a night of revelry and cheap booze. Throwing the heavy duvet over her head she hid from the hangover and hoped the churning in her stomach wouldn’t grow. She didn’t want to start another morning cl...