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Mud and Petals

May 26th, 2010 by the_lifer

It’s done. Winona emerges from an unrenovated office tower, clenching a mud-colored folder to her chest. The mud tone is the official branded colour of the Department of Stodge – all the signed paperwork for her Winona’s new job is now being clasped to her breast against a sudden downpour.

The stony, low sky might have been imported from Britain like the outdated Stodge procedurals. Winona eyes the ranks of commuters trudging towards the train station. In their black and olive coats, slumping, tired, they seem to be melting in the deluge. She is one of them, now. She’ll be shuttling between the Stodge offices and the indifferent flat, throughout the lashing Wellington winter.

Suddenly, irrationally, this feels dreadful. What was she thinking? Will she even remember how to work again after nearly nine unemployed months? When will the rest of the team realize she’s a chartalan? How will she keep up on her favorite online forums?

Then a woman struts by in a red coat, drawn as tight around her waist as the sepals of a rose clenching petals. Winona smiles in approval. Is she young or old? Pretty or homely? It doesn’t matter, with the red brave against the rain. That’s who she wants to be.

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