Angels

 It was a cold morning. You could barely even call it a morning since it was still dark when the alarm rang and Ellen kicked the coverings away. She sprang up immediately, feeling new energy in her bones like never before - which for her was rather unusual. She wondered how long that would last. She stepped towards the drapes to pull them away. Yeah, it was still dark, however what really is beautiful today, she thought, was the slow falling snow she could see illuminated in the street lights. She loved snow, it was her favorite, even though usually when it finally arrived, there was little sun.

            Her stomach grumbled some so she went straight to the tiny area in her studio apartment that served as a kitchen and switched on the cooking plate. She sifted through the desolate wreckage that was in the sink for a frying pan. The nasty leftovers that were sort of floating, sort of sticking to the sides did little to encourage her. Finally victorious, she took the pan and quickly scrubbed it under running water adding a little bit of dish-soap. She was thinking about everything she wanted to do today and there was a lot! She wanted to follow up on some of her leads regarding the latest assignment, she had that job interview in the afternoon – which she tried not to think about too much – she had to check the lamp in the basement, the old one was threatening to die soon. She took a quick glance around her room. Oh yeah, I need to clean this place too, she thought.

Her gaze ended up at the brown envelope on the kitchen counter next to a stack of dirty dishes.

            Ellen had no family and the few friends she had were supposed to come over tomorrow, but she wanted to get things ready today. When she was satisfied with the state of the frying pan, she put it on the scalding plate and the leftover water from the bottom hissed like a demon.

            “Shit!” She said sternly and quickly brought it up. She snatched a kitchen towel and wiped it better. Ellen lowered the temperature, put the pan back on and opened her fridge. Bottles clanged against the door. The sheer emptiness of it would terrify any respectable home dweller, but she didn’t mind. She ignored some of the things that were there, especially those that had some of that delicious sloshing liquid inside and opened the box of eggs, hoping some of them would be usable. Two shells were cracked and the eggs were spilling into the box. “Shit… Aha!” She found one that seemed ok and took it out, cracked it over a bowl and got to stirring.

            Somewhere in the distance outside a siren started wailing. It was far enough not to startle her, but the energy she felt when she woke up suddenly switched to anxiety. She stirred the bowl a little bit longer, added salt and sprinkled the pan with some sunflower oil. Her gaze shifted towards the bottle of pills on the kitchen counter. She knew that one was empty.

            Suddenly, her phone beeped loudly.

            She put the bowl on the counter and ran to her bed where her phone was somewhere under the mattress. “Shit, shit, shit.” She looked at the words in the text message and while this was nothing surprising it did not help her growing anxiety.

            Are you ready for today? I need to see you.

            She thought better of typing anything more and replied with a simple yes. Ellen sent the message back, put her phone back onto her bed and went back to finish the egg. There should be some leftover toast somewhere too and while she looked for it, she tried to calm herself down. She hated doing it, but she knew she needed to do it today.

            And best before the job interview,  which she was desperate for. The journalism she did whenever she was lucid enough to stay focused barely paid any of her bills and any of her other expenses. She poured the egg into the pan that once again hissed loudly. While stirring the egg, she looked at the clock. It was almost nine. It was still dark outside, but some light was spilling into the void and giving it some color. The snowfall was still going; however, it seemed to have lost some of its charm. Combined with some wind, it became faster and erratic.

            She flopped the stirred egg onto a plate, grabbed the last of the toast and got to eating. She was not hungry anymore, but she forced herself to get it down anyway. It was almost time. By the time she finished the last bite, the blizzard outside once again slowed down a bit. She tossed the empty plate into the sink and made a mental note of fixing it up once she got back. Quick! A shower was now in order. She could not get the meeting out of her head. What would they want? Would it be enough? Maybe it would help her finally write something that might end up paying more than just bills. And what about the job interview? She needs to get the morning meeting done in enough time to eat something for lunch and then dash to the center of town. She should also make sure that she looks presentable enough. Don’t overdo it, Ellen, she told herself. Shower thoughts finished, she scrubbed a bit here and there, and got out. Dried her hair, fixed something on her face. Not too much makeup, but just enough to hide her tired eyes and give her that spark she used to find in the mirror not so long ago.

            Finally satisfied she got into her winter outfit – black jeans, black shirt and a thick woolen white sweater, well, it used to be white and finally couldn’t decide between her favorite ankle red heavy-duty boots or elegant tall boots. The latter ones are more feminine and Samuel always said they look good on her. She bit her lip thoughtfully.

            She picked the red boots and got to work on the strings. It took a while, but she didn’t mind, she loved these boots. Finally, Ellen hid the upper strings behind a large red Velcro and stood up. What was staring at her from the mirror wasn’t exactly what she was going for, but it would have to do. Her long brown hair was falling down on her shoulders, no longer straight and shiny, but wavy and frizzled at the ends. Her once sparkling eyes were now dull and although you couldn’t really see the sunken cheeks beneath the makeup, she knew they were there. Her figure was still thin and nice. At least beneath the now creamy sweater and tight black jeans.

But the booze and pills have done her toll.

She could quit anytime of course, she knew that. But where was the fun in that? She dismissed her disapproving reflection, grabbed a long gray winter coat from the rack and finally put the brown envelope into her inside pocket. She grabbed her bag and out the door she went.

With her back into the doorway, she locked her studio apartment twice, click, click and suddenly almost jumped when someone's hand grabbed hers. She was very anxious.

“Ellen! Thank you so very much once again for helping me out the other day with my shopping!”

She turned around and it was Mrs. Aesther, the impossibly cute and nice old lady from next door. Her face looked like what Ellen imagined the old railways looked like. The ones that nobody has used for at least half a century, maybe more. Abandoned and overgrown. She had a scarf tied around her hair, as always when she was working on something and was dressed in a very flowery coat. She was genuinely nice and always tried to help whomever she could, unlike most old folks, Ellen thought.

“Oh, you are welcome, Mrs. Aesther. It was no big deal.” Ellen replied. That’s right, she did help her with some bags. She was high as a kite at the time too. Doubtful that the old lady noticed.

“Have you been sleeping well, Ellen? Your eyes are awfully dark. And you seem to be out of sorts.” Mrs. Aesther said with a worry deeper than Ellen’s mother ever had.

Or maybe she did notice.

“I am fine, Mrs. Aesther, I just have a lot going on today.” And right on signal her phone started ringing. She glanced at her phone. Shit, it’s the company where she has the job interview later this afternoon. There was barely any reception inside the building, she would have to go outside to take it. She took to the stairs. The old lady followed her every move. “I apologize, but I really have to take this. It was nice seeing you, Mrs. Aesther!” She shouted at the old lady who disapprovingly frowned at the rushing young person.

Shit, shit, shit. She took three steps down hoping the reception wouldn’t die. The phone still kept ringing. It was more than twenty seconds now. She is keeping them for too long. She really needs this job. Shit, shit, shit. She slammed against the door that led outside, stepped onto the sidewalk next to her apartment complex and pressed the accept button.

“Ellen Erszalk, hello.” She said without breath.

“Miss Erszalk, good morning. This is Odo Nikvis from AstraCo. I was hoping you would have a second to talk.”

Ellen froze and not because of the icy weather that suddenly swept her moist hair up. “Of course.”

“Well, Miss Erszalk, it is about today actually. We have you scheduled to come in for a job interview later in the afternoon…”

“Yes.” She was hardly breathing. Oh no, no, no.

“We were actually hoping if perhaps you could come in an hour or two, if you wouldn’t mind that is? Our other applicant who was supposed to come here canceled at the last moment and well, we have the time.” There was a pause. “Only if you wouldn’t mind, really. Of course, we understand if you cannot. We would still be very happy to have you here in the afternoon when…”

“No, of course, I can be there in an hour, easily!” She couldn’t, but she would try.

“That is wonderful! We are looking forward to seeing you then, Miss Erszalk!”

“Me too! See you!”

“Goodbye.” And he hung up.

Well, she does want that job, she would have to postpone her other meeting, though. She wasn’t sure which made her more nervous. What to do… What to do…

She paced around the sidewalk like a toy soldier. She found the number that sent her the message this morning and dialed it up. Rang, rang. Rang, rang. Rang, rang. They weren’t picking up. Maybe they were also rushing from inside an apartment complex like she was…

“What?” A harsh voice with heavy static came from the other side.

“Hey, so, uh, I can't meet you right now. Something has come up. I can do it in the afternoon.”

“Something more important than this?” Every word had a pause in between. The voice sounded angry. He was probably furious.

“Yeah, so listen,” it was Ellen’s turn to get angry, “either meet me when I can or you know, I will find someone else for it.” She tried very hard to sound confident despite the fact she was scared and shaking more than trees in a blizzard around her. Stupid Qino, he was as lazy as he was dumb.

Of course, she didn’t say that. “So? I have to go now, call me when you…”

“Fine. I will meet you in the usual spot at four.” And he hung up.

Good. She can do four. She looked around the block. Cars were turning at the roundabout, some going to work, some getting back from whatever shifts ended at lunch and into the underground garages. She knew she still had to fix that bulb. She will pick a spare copy on her way back from downtown, she must not forget. She stepped across the sidewalk; it was still snowing and for a second, she was afraid that she might slip, but her good trusty red boots had firm soles that just would never let that happen. Anyway, thankfully, across the street Damir still hasn’t gotten away for lunch and she caught him just by himself at the coffee shop. He saw her looking his way and smiled. Ellen felt a rush and was there in an instant. She opened the door, breathed out and sauntered towards the counter of the coffee shop.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Hey Ellen, yeah, not too bad, I always liked snow.”

She smiled. “Me too!” She put hands on the counter and leaned on it. “Can I get the usual, please?”

He saw that shine and was already getting a cup ready. “Sure. You look good today.”

Her eyes shined as headlights on a delivery truck, she was barely listening. “Oh, and also one regular sized espresso with sugar and milk, aaaand…” she looked at the display full of various delicacies “… that one croissant with ham and lettuce!”

“To go?” Damir asked.

“Of course!” She took out the cash. Despite her best efforts, there was always some in her wallet. “Here, keep the change!”

Damir packed everything together and smiled. “Ellen, thank you. You know, we can try something else.”

She was already in the door. “It's fine. You take care of yourself!”

“You too, Ellen. Have a good day!”

The door closed. She put the croissant in her bag and took both of the cups out of the paper holder, then tossed it into the bin next to the sidewalk. She looked at the clock, there's still plenty of time to make it. Ten - fifteen minutes wont kill nobody. She went to the park that was between her apartment block and the bus stop. The clouds were already hanging over. The darkness was a tiny bit at bay, at least for the moment. She felt the warmth that was stemming from the coffee cups into her cold pale hands and the relief wasn't coming. It wasn't the cold that hurt her the most. It was the uneasiness and the stress that have over time evolved into a permanent state of anxiety. She could not sleep. She could barely eat. Waking up was not easy, but easier than falling asleep. Snow was still falling slowly. Her dark wavy hair was catching most of it. Ellen’s steps weren’t echoing as they once used to, but thumping and crunching as she made her way across the park. She has always liked it. The newly planted trees were as tiny hands of the earth grasping at air, sunlight and life itself, their twigs shriveled and broken in the cold. The older ones towering way up about the benches and park lights. The path was cobbled but made so it would hide any concrete. This was a nice park, Ellen thought.

Then she heard the voices.

“Fucking go! Leave!”

“Bitch!” Loud voices. Screaming on top of each other. “Go fucking elsewhere, shithead!”

She saw them after a few steps. In the middle of a simple clearing between paths, surrounded by trees and benches. Their flappy tents and overturned and undoubtedly stolen shopping carts with missing wheels. The illegal fires they had going on to warm themselves. Three or four figures yelling at someone else who was huddled by the open flame. “Fine! I'm leaving, you can stop shouting.”

Ellen stopped and tried to not look at them any more. The figure was approaching her. Someone from the makeshift camp threw an empty can and screamed more obscenities. The figure did not turn around. He looked at Ellen and smiled. “Ellen!” A wide grin with some missing teeth, but honest.

“Hey, Charles. How have you been?”

“Well, you know how it is, watching the days go by.” He gestured towards a bench on the opposite side of the path. Ellen shook her head. “Too cold for me. Let's walk instead.” She realized what she just said and handed Charles one of the coffee cups. The larger one. “Thank you very much, Ellen.” He said, took the cup and grasped it with both hands.

“Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?” She asked and looked into his foggy eyes. She was looking for traces of an honest response, however he averted her gaze and started to sip very slowly, as if he was afraid the warmth would escape every time he put the cup to his lips.

“Yeah… I will figure something out. Do not worry.”

She pursed her lips. “I do worry.”

He looked at her once again and smiled some more. This time without showing the gaps in his teeth. “Anyway, how is your big new job? How is the office? Last time you could not stop talking about it.” They walked on the snowy path with dark clouds over their heads. But such clouds were typical for the season.

“I haven't actually gotten it yet. I have the final interview today.”

“Oh wow, good luck!” He whistled through the gap in his teeth. “I bet you wont need it though.”

She laughed. “I wish. Oh!” She grappled with her bag. “I also took this for you!” She handed him the croissant.

“Oh, you shouldn't have!” But he took it anyway. She was glad. She wasn't going to eat it, anyway.”

“Anyway, I have to run now. I actually have the interview in less than an hour. The bus should be here soon.”

Charles gave her a worried look. The features on his face hardened for a moment and there was something in his face that he once knew as familiar from an age long past. Something he gave up for good a long time ago. “Are you ok, Ellen?”

He knew something was up, just like Mrs. Aesther. “Yeah! Of course. I will see you later in the afternoon! Are you sure you have somewhere to stay?”

Charles waved his hand. “Of course, I will go to the shelter by the admin station.”

She nodded and went her way. Her boots crunched on the fresh snow and a new wind was rising that blew her hair away. She felt the freezing cold in her bones and grasped her smaller cup of coffee some more. When she finally got to the bus stop, she looked up at the electronic sign that said she had two minutes until the bus arrived, and she nodded. There were a couple people at the bust stop.

It wasn't just Charles. There were plenty of refugees that had no place to go, nowhere to stay and nobody to take care of them. There were flocks of them all over the city, and outside of it too. The big one happened three years ago - an electro-seismic activity they called it. It was larger than any earthquake ever recorded and the devastation was of otherworldly proportions. It killed the electricity of the entire nation for just over twenty minutes and the ensuing chaos that followed truly had some thinking this was the end of days. Looting, pillaging, murder, rape, the whole lot. By the time they restarted power and emergency services half of the rational world went insane. And the great bottomless hole, the gaping wound in the concrete, pipes and twisted metal that remained at the center of it was terrifying even to this day. In that place, to this day, it is impossible to turn on the engine of a car, flying planes give it a wide berth, there is no cell reception and anything electronic simply doesn't work - scientists and politicians have fancy names for it, of course. Once the bricks and the trees stopped shaking, that hole swallowed any hope for these people to return home. Thankfully, it happened a long way away. However the aftershocks were felt even here.

Quickly, as if it was second nature, she took off the plastic covering of the coffee cup, with her fingers neatly unhooked the colorless pill that was taped inside and swallowed it. The world around her swirled with excitement as she took another sip of coffee and dumped the rest into a bush.

The bus was finally here so she shuffled inside, swiped her card on the nearby reader and took an empty seat by the window. The office she was going to was next to a stop in Old Town, one of the richest districts there was and the time to get there was just over thirty minutes or so, at least if traffic would allow it. Thankfully it was a direct route, so she could turn off for the most part and averted her gaze outside, resting her head on the cold window.

She felt her body relax, the ache left her shoulders and her fingers and toes fizzled with a feeling that was best described as if they were passed under a hot stream. She hated herself for it. The city whizzed around, gray mismatched buildings passed one another while cars with various lights were competing on who could violate more traffic laws and the pedestrians were blissfully oblivious to the apparent danger they were in. If one of the cars would slightly tip, there was nothing to stop it from absolutely crushing those on the sidewalk into paste. Abroad they had laws and regulations against this sort of thing. They did not try to enforce the traffic laws, they have long gone abandoned to try and make the drunk drivers behave. Passive pedestrian protection. At least that is what Ellen thought they called it. PPP. It sounded silly. The bus smelled of sweat and burnt hair.

The billboards with various men and women in suits were everywhere. They were smiling, waving, some trying to look serious - the promises of change and better days on their lips and eyebrows. “We are not changing. We still want to help!” or “Do you want cheaper groceries? You know who to vote for.” The results of the latest elections made some of the slogans seem funny and ridiculous now. The leading parties probably let them be still up - why would they even take them down? Or perhaps nobody just cared, which was more likely than anything. Some of them were already torn and scraps of paper were blowing about the digitally altered faces. Ellen knew who won and she also knew what they were up to, at least recently.

The bus drove beneath an overpass and stopped at a red light. Outside the cold window, her breath allowed her to glimpse another grouping of makeshift tents. They were sparsely built around what used to be an old fountain, a monument from some hundred years ago, one that the city administration did not bother to maintain. It was a shame really, it used to be surrounded by a garden of flowers, before the overpass was built and the place was left to decay. Now there were huddled figures around various sources of heat. Some drinking, some eating. The sunlight, even if there was any, had no chance reaching them in the underpass. All somber faces in a gloomy shadow, with a street lamp here or there.

The lights swirled around and finally for a while she left everything just spiraling outside from under her scalp. A drape of a familiar thought was now blanketing her being and she lost track of self. A distant ship horn blared in a mist, a white light fighting fruitlessly against it. Torn flags and frayed ropes creaked as the empty ship approached the abandoned harbor. The skies changed fast, but none of them showed the sun, a memory long forgotten. On the rotten pier, a child was patiently waiting while the massive rusty husk drifted on the icy waves towards the gray town with empty windows. The child was scantily dressed, standing motionless but for the constant shivering. Her eyes were filled with terror. The white was everywhere.

Suddenly, Ellen woke up. An arm was shaking her. “Pass! Pass! Hello??”

She shrugged off the dream like a wet towel, tried to swallow the bile which got stuck in her throat and scrambled for her card. “I…” Words were not coming out. Her throat was blazing with pain.

“Pass!” The man was angry, fed up, he did not want to be here. He did not want to deal with another sleeping passenger, another druggie.

She found the card. “I got it, here.” His meaty hands took the card and passed it along a machine that was hanging on his neck, too big and too heavy to be comfortable. “Fine.” He tossed the card to Ellen who barely caught it. She looked up at the sign to see where she was and thankfully her stop was only two places away. She straightened herself on the chair and worked her mouth to get the stiffness away from her jaw. The pain was back, as it always was and she had to stand up to wriggle some life back into herself.

Once again, the first thing that came into clear view were the political billboards with their smug faces and silly slogans. Well, most of them were silly, anyway. One of the faces that ended up in the cabinet of the Interior was smiling his perfect shark teeth straight at her and she remembered the naked cold dream, which sent fresh shivers down her spine.

Her stop approached, the bus stopped and when the double doors opened, she stepped outside into the cold, but fresh air.  The plaza was new, filled to the brim with glowing signs and sharp angles. Every step was precisely calculated by a machine. In the middle was a statue with no face and wings. Ellen saw the statue before, but she never liked it. And opposite the bus stop was a set of grand doors that led into a massive building that seemed to be made of glass. A shining see-through beacon in the middle of an ashen sea of concrete. Something that could finally spell a new beginning, and Ellen was all about those. She sharply breathed in and out, and with a brisk pace started towards the portal. The rotating doors ate her like candy and she smiled at the visibly tired security guards behind them. Behind them was another set of rotating doors, these were however much smaller and required a card or a badge to operate them from either side. Ellen saw various people come and go from and into the building. The flooring was once again in stark contrast with the outside, it held a comforting grainy sheen and there was a pleasant aroma in the air. On her right was a desk with an attendant dressed sharp in a suit. Right behind the desk was a security checkpoint, complete with a metal detector and everything. Ellen did not have to look around to be sure that there were cameras everywhere. 

She stepped up to the desk and smiled. “Hello, my name is Ellen Erszalk, I am here to see Mr. Odo Nikvis. I have an interview.”

The attendant looked up. “ID?”

She produced it.

He typed something really fast into his computer, took an empty card with a clip-on and swiped it on a machine that went beep and handed it to her. “Here you go. Behind me is the security, go through that, then the doors, down the hall and after another set of doors it is the second elevator on the right.”

She blinked. She was trying really hard to remember it all. “And which floor?”

He looked up once again, a disapproving frown on his face. “The top, of course.”

She nodded. Of course, he was the CEO. “Thank you!” She said and strode towards the checkpoint. She was used to these checkpoints already, they were pretty common in the newer buildings.

“Liquids, electronics out of the bag. Anything metal in the tray.” The fat security guard droned on. He looked at her legs. “Those shoes have to come off too.”

Of course, she could be hiding several terrorists in them. Ellen did as she was asked and jumped out of the boots easily. Although the floor was pleasant to look at, it was much less inviting to her bare feet. She tippy toed across the metal detector, the light was green and she collected her things. “Thank you.” She said to the guard and looked at the smaller rotating doors. Aha, she found the tiny yellow strip which must be for the card she was given. After she successfully navigated the second entry, she found herself truly inside the giant building of glass. There were flags of various sizes and colors, drapes that hung down from the ceiling, all the while classical and futuristic chandeliers mixed all these elements together. It all tied into this magnificent web of power and opulence. Usually, she disliked displays like these, however there was something very impressive about the way it was all connected. The future and the past meeting in harmony, creating something different. Something new.

 Where was she supposed to go again? What was it? More doors? She saw them at the end of the hallway, these were no longer rotating, but simple, although again massive double doors that were already open and the handles were covered in shiny chrome. They reflected the various lights that danced across the marble floor. These were much more inviting, she thought. She found the elevator easily enough, she passed various people on the way who stared at her. Just pretend like you belong here and nobody will notice, Ellen. She held her head high and after finding the correct elevator she stepped inside. There was only one button and she pressed it. The ride up was really fast. She figured she would have time to compose her thoughts some more, or perhaps get ready for the interview, but everything was going a little bit too smoothly.

The elevator door opened with a ding and Ellen was once again in an entry hall of sorts. It was a miniature version of the lobby downstairs, except there was somehow less security and less decoration. This lobby looked much more professional, with some potted flowers near the walls, some urban paintings next to them and simple ceiling lights. The attendant behind the desk looked at Ellen, smiled and sprang right up. It was a small girl, in a black and gray outfit with a bright green scarf. “You must be Miss Erszalk! Please, come right this way. Mr. Nikvis is expecting you.”

The door opened and out strode a shorter man with thinning hair that was professionally cropped and lacked any stylings. His suit was ashen gray and he was sporting a black and red tie, the business combination that screamed “I am getting things done, no bullshit.” His smile was wide and his eyes shone with practiced energy. He offered his hand to her. “Ah, Miss Erszalk, I apologize so very much for the chaos today and the rescheduling, I am so glad you could come in today. Please, come right this way.”

She took his hand and grasped it firmly. “My pleasure.” She smiled too and went along inside the office. The attendant closed the door behind them. The office was not at all what Ellen expected. It was much simpler and less grandiose than the downstairs mega lobby implied. There was an U shaped couch with a small glass table in the middle and another larger table with several chairs facing a desk near the windows. The shutters were open and you could see rain now mixing with the snow. It was getting warmer.

“Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea?”

She shook her head. “No, I'm fine, thank you.” Her throat was parched and still burning from the drugs, but she just really wanted to focus on getting this interview done as good as she could.

Odo Nikvis sat across from her. There was a glass table between them on the opposite sides of the couch. There were some papers on it. And he was still smiling.

“Alright, so we have seen you before, Miss Erszalk, in the first session amongst other candidates but while my colleagues were satisfied with the results of the evaluations, I really want to meet any prospecting new employees on my own. I hope that is alright with you, if it is just us.” He leaned into the couch. He looked right at home.

“Of course.” Sitting on the couch, which was undoubtedly comfortable, just not to her, she thought that she was in extreme stress. The sudden realization hit her like a truck and she started sweating before she could even begin to calm herself down. The possibility of looking like an idiot. Or worse. Looking like an idiotic drug addict.

She cleared her throat. “Oh and thank you for inviting me here. I certainly appreciate the opportunity and I would be happy to talk about whatever you would like.”

He chuckled. “No need to be stressed. I just want to get to know you a little bit.”

            “Sure, fire away.”

            “Alright!” He sat up and took some of the papers from the table. He also took out a pair of glasses from inside his jacket, furrowed his brow in concentration and skimmed something on the papers. “You understand, these are just standard questions.” He waved as if it was nothing important.

            Ellen just nodded.

            Hmm, alright so… how do you react to stress?” He said and looked at her from behind the glasses.

            She shrugged. “I mean, I don't like it, but I can work under stress just fine. I can also do it without biting the heads off of my colleagues too.”

            He chuckled. “Yes, that is important.” He took a pen from the table and scribbled something on the papers. His movements were fast. “Imagine a situation where you need approval or…” he stammered, “... or permission from a superior but the issue at hand is very time sensitive and there is none. You could theoretically get a hold of someone, but you would miss the deadline. What would you do?”

            She bit her lip. “How important is the issue?”

            He didn't even flinch. “Very.”

            “Wel… if possible, I would approach the situation on my own based upon something similar that was done in the past, in order to meet the deadline. Then I would just CC the superior and tell them after the fact.”

            He narrowed his eyes and said: “Alright.” He put the papers back onto the table. “Would you mind working outside regular hours?”

            She would. “Not really, no, I would prefer to work in a regular time slot, I would not mind working after it - especially if I could get it done remotely. However, I have other engagements in the evenings.”

            “Family?” Odo Nikvis asked.

            Ellen waved her hand. “Oh, not really, I volunteer at a displaced shelter and I just hate to miss dinner. It is…” she swallowed, “important to me.”

            “I see. Yes, yes, the tragedy was horrible.” He fussed with a pen and took the glasses away trying to fold them back into his jacket while avoiding her gaze. “Terrible, just terrible. I have relatives who lived near the area where the last event happened.” He paused when saying the word, as if trying hard to find a suitable way to express it. To find the correct word for it.

            “Me too.” She said softly.

            He studied her face for a while. She felt the sweat rolling down her back and her scalp. She really needs this job. She needs it more than water. If she could only get, she could finally say goodbye to those shitty journalistic deals and the stalking. She could finally get some semblance of order and discipline into her life, maybe start going to a gym again. God, how she needs to exercise, to move, to do anything other than sit in a dark room… Maybe she could finally get rid of the drugs and booze.

            “Ellen,” he said and extended an assuring hand, “I hope you don't mind me calling you that. I have to come clean. The position you have auditioned for has already been filled actually.” He said just like that, as if nothing important was of consequence. Her heart sank. She tripped over the edge and gaped into the void.

            “But honestly, you weren't right for that role anyway. It was too small, too… unimportant. We have had a recent and sudden departure in one of the managerial positions. Nothing too big, mind you. It is just a small department that deals mostly with public outreach and some HR.”

            What?

            “I think you would be perfect for that. We need someone from the outside, the team is new, it is glued together from various interns and outside relocations. We wanted someone who didn't have a place with us just yet, either.”

She grabbed the ledge.

“That is why I mentioned the off the clock hours. You see, as a manager sometimes you would have to… deal with situations that might arise even after normal hours.” He paused for a moment. “Do you think that would be ok with you? Would you be interested at all?”

They sat there for a moment. Odo was looking at her, trying to put together something of a reaction from here, his suit slightly wrinkling at every movement he tried best not to make. Ellen was just looking straight ahead, lost somewhere between his brow and the glass panel that separated them from the outside cold. “I guess, my only question is… why? Why would you offer something like this to me?”

He instantly sprang up, the couch making a noise. “Because you are a perfect candidate, of course! You have already passed the initial round, aced all the tests and honestly? That took us way too long to start over again. What would it take for you to consider it?”

She smiled. “I am considering it, I just want to understand.”

He waved his hands again, trying to lose her gaze without realizing that is something he would not have to be even trying. “Of course, of course. I can show you around if you would like!” As if that was an answer.

She breathed in, the deck steadied as she finally found herself on easy footing, the rocking waves abating for a bit. “Ok, I am in.”

Odo blinked and was speechless for a while. “Fantastic! Wait, we have not even talked about your pay yet.” He regained his composure instantly. “Can you come in tomorrow? We can go over the details, benefits, work hours and such?”

“I can be here tomorrow, sure.” She felt an opportunity. “However, I would like the pay to reflect my years as a journalist at least. And I would like a car.” No more passing out in the bus, cheek pressed into a cold dirty window.

He smiled. He was prepared for negotiations. “But of course, these are all standard for all our managers. Like I said, we can go over that tomorrow. I will have a standard contract drafted.”

“Of course,” she said, “but I would like some assurances that you will not change your mind by tomorrow. I have a prior engagement, as you are no doubt aware, which might change by tomorrow.” She had no idea where these words were coming from, the confidence.

Odo straightened his sleeve a tiny bit and looked down at the papers on the table. “I know, of course, however the best we can do right now is just have you sign this confirmation that we have met today and reached a mutual agreement to continue drafting the contract.” He picked up the papers and handed them to Ellen.

She looked at the papers, she knew they had no legal binding. “Do you have a pen? I am afraid I left mine… somewhere.”

“Here you go!” He picked one from inside his endless jacket pockets.

She signed the papers on both sides, she barely read them and stood up. Odo mirrored her and smiled warmly. “You know, you made me so happy! I am sure that others will be relieved as well. I had no idea we would be able to persuade you so easily!”

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Suddenly, she really wanted to get gone and go back home. Her stomach was rumbling and her throat was reminding itself too. “That's fine, I am looking forward to coming back tomorrow.”

“Yes! Let me walk you out.”

In no time she found herself back in the elevator and going outside. Ellen barely paid any attention to the security guards, she made sure to give them back the visitor’s badge and waved at them. It was all unbelievable. In less than two weeks she would no longer have to go through the checkpoint. She would be joining the other employees - no, managers - in going through without. Is it really true? Could this finally be what she was looking for?

The cold air hit her like a truck again. She must remember to bring the coat with the hood tomorrow. It is supposed to be even colder. There were police lights going off next to the bus station, behind the faceless statue. She only saw the wings. A girl on a pier, waiting for a ship. She took out her phone and switched the sound on. She must have muted it on the bus sometime, Ellen could barely remember. She had several missed calls. One from Qino, three from Samuel. Who cares? The high from the pill was long gone and the high from sitting across Odo Nikvis was abating too. Thinking about it, she really preferred the latter, less stomach pain too. She felt the oppressive snow and wind weigh down on her again.

Without waiting for this to get any more awkward, Ellen started walking. She went past the bus stop. There was a crashed car, most of it disappeared into the concrete sidewalk with pieces of metal and plastic littered everywhere. Might be with some people in it too, but bystanders were blocking most of the view. That is why she saw the police lights. Probably some ambulance lights too. It was not that she didn't care but these things were happening every day and she really did not want to concentrate on them unless necessary. And the misery of strangers was rarely necessary.

She needed to collect her thoughts so she stopped at another café down the street. The hissing steam was rising from the kitchen and the smells made her stomach grumble even more. She stepped inside, shivering and sat down. “Can I have a cup of coffee and whatever you are doing for lunch, please?” She asked the waiter. “Chicken soup and fish filet with potatoes.” Good enough. “Yes please, I will have that.”

The soup arrived faster than the coffee and Ellen felt the rush of heat seeping first into her hands, then spreading into her whole being. She wolfed it down and was thankful for the distraction. She gulped the coffee in between the fish filet and enjoyed every moment of it. Technically it was lunch, however it was again almost dark. The sun remains mostly absent these days. The street lights were not yet on, of course, but the lights from the apartments and the buildings around the cafe tried fighting against the encroaching gloom. She knew she still had to meet with Qino and hopefully reach a semi-satisfactory agreement with him. And get everything settled preferably before tomorrow when she could finally throw all of this behind her and get to working on something new and fresh in her life. It started to feel more overwhelming than she wanted to admit. The food felt very nice, actually it surprised her how she enjoyed it. Must be the stress that finally washed away. She once again looked at her phone, at the missed calls and thought about meeting with Qino - she needs to get it finished today. She packed her things up and went to the counter to pay, Ellen gave the waiter more change than was necessary and he just looked at her confused. “This is way too much!” She waved her hand and smiled. “Keep it.”

The ride back home took longer, mostly because of the traffic, but also due to the fact that Ellen was actually conscious this time. She felt like she would not need any more pills to fall asleep this time, however she was not looking forward to more dreams.

“Dreams…” she whispered for herself. “Fuck the dreams.” The city lights droned on past the cold bus window and she once again rested her head on it. The hopeless faces filled with fake joy of the various politicians were barely visible in the coming darkness and Ellen thought of the chicken soup. She could barely remember the last time she had soup this good. She must learn how to make some. How hard can it be, really?

Her phone vibrated with another text. “Park bench as always. 30 minutes?” “Ok.” She replied. She wasn't sure if she would make it by then, but Qino would wait. After some time, her phone vibrated again. This time it was a call and she cringed when she saw who was the caller, but decided to pick it up. Why? Doesn't matter.

“Who is this?” She asked.

“It's Sam. Hello, Ellen. How are you? I have been worried about you.”

That made her raise her eyebrows. “What do you mean? If anything, you should worry about yourself.”

There was a pause. “I have cleaned up, Ellen. Is there any chance I could see you? Perhaps today?”

“No and don't call again.” She hung up.

Poor little Sam. He was always sad, always broken. Always looking for a little sympathy. There might have been a time when she loved him, but perhaps she just wanted someone to take care of. Someone to be there whenever she would get back home from her sneaking and lying around. They lived together for ten months or so. Then he overdosed and she missed a delivery because she had to take him to the hospital. He survived and probably would have anyway even if she left him like that, lying on the kitchen floor. However, Ellen did not want to risk it. Of course he promised to quit the next day.

He did not and went chasing more highs than she ever did. He kept saying that whatever happens, he wants to be with her, however she always felt that it wasn't her he wanted, but more drugs. Always more.

Finally, it was her stop and she clambered outside. Her apartment peaked at her from behind the thin trunks of the park trees. There was much more snow than in the morning, it must have been snowing all day.

She knew which bench of course. Despite the snow, he was sitting on it. Must have sweeped the snow away, or something. She was once again shivering from the cold, she really needs a better coat.

“Fucking finally. You have really ruined my day, Ellen.”

Qino was in his early thirties, half a stubble on his face and clothes a size or two bigger than what was his regular size. Were they even his clothes?

“Yeah, well, my life doesn't revolve around what you want,” she quipped and looked at the bench, “how cold is it?”

“Never mind that. Do you have it?”

She took a small memory card from inside her bag. “Of course. Do you have the money?”

He waved with a dirty envelope. It looked like coffee stains. “Did you have a look at it?”

“Of course not.” She lied. Some damning bullshit or another. Confirmation that the newest administration could get royally screwed. There was more of course, things she didn't exactly understand, but then again, she already asked a fitting price. And sometimes knowing less is better, especially when it comes to her line of work.

“Fine, whatever, give it here.” Objects were exchanged. Ellen opened the envelope. “Dude, what the fuck, this is not even half of what we agreed!”

Qino was visibly angry with her even before she said this. As if ready for her reaction he shouted: “You are not getting any more! That is it! Be glad I even paid anything.”

She felt her heart thumping in her throat. “Dont you fucking dare, Qino! We had an agreement, give it back! I will sell it to whoever else wants it. Do you have any idea what I had to do to get it?”

She once again thought of the small girl on the pier, waiting for the rusty boat.

“I dont give a fuck!”

She lunged at him, one arm twisted in a fist and the other ready to claw his eyes out. Ellen was fast. Or so she thought. Qino shoved her, trying really hard to put her on her back, but Ellen drove her feet into the snowy path and stood firm. Thanks to her favorite boots she didn't slip. Had she been wearing the other pair, things would have been different. Qino was on her anyway though, his fist flying straight towards her. She tried to pull away, closed her eyes instinctively and sharp pain shot across her cheek and mouth.

She licked her lips and tasted blood. “Whatever you are doing, I will not be cheated out of my money, Qino!”

“Fuck you. You should be glad you even got some in the first place!”

Unbelievable, this is not how this was supposed to go at all. She has to get the card back from him. There will be other buyers, especially for political smear like this. No matter what it takes, she has to get it back. “Give it back!” She sucked the air through her bloody teeth and swung away.

There was a flash and he sliced at her with something. “Get away!” Qino shouted. There was a hint of being scared in his voice. He was holding a knife. The park lights turned on and she saw them glimmer in the blade like the sides of a freshly cleaned glass.

“Ellen!” They both turned around but Qino could not see Charles in time. The homeless to the rescue. Charles shoved Qino from the back, who turned around just in time to cut at him with his knife. Charles grunted but kept pushing. His immense weight crushed Qino beneath him and he dropped the knife and started scrambling sideways away from the homeless man. “What the fuck?”

“Leave her alone!” Shouted Charles. Ellen was struck in awe by the sudden display of smelly chivalry. Qino forgot about the knife, dropping it and half limping ran away - the snow scattered about the bench with drops of blood.

Charles took Ellen by the shoulders. “Are you ok?” He asked.

She looked at his bleeding fingers and hands. “Am I ok? You are the one he cut?” She glanced back behind Charles and saw Qino’s back turned and disappearing behind a turn in the park.

Charles looked at his fingers, then at her bloodied coat. “Oh shit, I am so sorry!” He tried wiping the blood off, however he just ended up making it worse. “Sorry!”

“Look at your hands, we need to bandage them. Come on!”

“Wait,” he looked the way where Qino went, “he took something from you. Shouldn't we call the police?”

“No, it's fine. I got something out of it anyway.” She said and tapped the brown bloodied envelope. “Anyway, come one. Your fingers are bleeding. You might need stitching.”

His eyes widened as if he was now just realizing what happened. “Oh no, you think so?” Or maybe he was afraid of hospitals.

They crossed the park fast. The adrenaline was giving her speed and strength she didn't think she had. Ellen was hoping that nobody would come across them, but she barely even finished the thought when she spied Mrs. Aesther looking at both of them from her balcony. Was she knitting? Or more likely it was the old lady who was watching them. When their eyes met, Mrs. Aesther smiled at them and waved, however her face soon turned sour. Ellen just waved and rushed towards the door. Charles was holding his hands and trying not to spurt any blood on the white walls around the door or at the snowy pavement. “Let's go.” Ellen said and opened the entrance, they went via the stairs, it wasn't far anyway. She knew she didn't get the price she wanted from Qino, but perhaps what exactly was in the envelope would be fine. She overreacted anyway. Most of this shit would be behind her come tomorrow and all of it will be an unpleasant memory next month. She hated that she had to rely on this type of work for so long. She always wanted to do something else, but hey, it paid the bills. And it wasn't exactly illegal, even though it got her into enough trouble.

“I'm sorry!” Said Charles once again and Ellen saw he bloodied a wall near her door. She dismissed it. “Don't worry about it! I will clean it after.”

Her apartment was in the state she left it, obviously, but now she wasn't actually worried about the way it looked. She supposed it doesn't really matter to the homeless. “No need to take your shoes off, just sit down at the table.”

Charles did exactly so. She had a spare aid kit in the bathroom, it was an old one from Samuel’s car, but it should be fine. How could these expire anyway? “Run your hands under tap, please.” She quickly took the dirty dishes from the sink and tossed them onto the counter. Charles stood up, went to the sink and she turned it on. Hot water sputtered out. “Slowly!” She said and Charles put his hands under the running water and winced in pain. The blood and dirt was slowly washing away, mixing with the food waste in the sink. Eventually his hands were clean enough. “It looks like your right hand is fine, that is a small cut, however the left one might need a stitch or two.” Once again, there was terror in his eyes. Maybe he was scared of needles?

Ellen opened the fridge, found the bottle with the gin and opened it. She took a swig worthy of a sailor and then poured some - making sure it wasn't too much - onto a cloth she had nearby. “Ok, so this will hurt.” She didn't wait for Charles to acknowledge her and pressed the damp cloth onto his right hand. She pressed hard and he tried to swallow a grunt of pain. After a while, she took out a plaster, cut it into two smaller pieces and pressed those against the cuts in his right hand. His other hand was once again bleeding. “Wash that for me again.” He did.

She drank some more gin, again straight from the bottle. This time it was more than one gulp. Might have been three, but who's counting?

“Can I have some too?” Charles asked.

She dismissed him. “Later. Is your hand washed again?”

He showed her the hand, it was still bleeding but less. “Listen, I think it could use a stitch or two, but first we need to stop the bleeding. You can go to the hospital or we can stitch it later together.” Charles didn't say a word but Ellen thought he preferred the latter option. She cleaned the wound once again, pressed it together and found some patch stitches. “These should do the trick.”

They sat there for a while. Ellen studied the wrinkles in his face and wanted to count them, when she remembered the gin bottle on the counter. “You want some then?”

He nodded. She stood up and went to the filthy counter. A quick glance revealed there were no clean shot glasses anywhere, so she settled for a regular tall one. She poured. The sloshing liquid made her slightly melancholic.

“Here you go.” She handed him the glass and he carefully took it with both bandaged hands - they hurt, but he wanted the gin, of course he did. She did not mind after all, to share with someone this bleak and desolate place that was her apartment. The stuffy air was filled with the smells of sweat, old food and despair. Despite being injured and bleeding all over like a stuck pig, Charles was smiling. He was slowly sipping the gin from the glass, savoring every drop. The warmth was slowly spreading from her stomach to her chest and reaching her limbs. It was a very pleasant feeling, one she always wanted to forget. Neither said a word and despite the fuck up with Qino, Ellen was slowly coming to terms with the job ending up as it did. She is not going to miss it, nor is she going to miss him.

“Thank you very much, Ellen.” He meant the gin.

“No, thank you for trying to help!”

He emptied the glass and was waiting. “Did I not just make things worse?”

She sighed but also smiled. “No, I just hope not to see him again any time soon.” Or ever. She didn't even need to think about it and refilled his glass.

He emptied it immediately.

“I would offer you something to eat, but…” she looked around the room, “I doubt there actually is anything to eat, sorry.”

He shook his head. “Not hungry and time I was on my way.” Charles stood up and shuffled to the door. “Thank you, again.” He was smiling.

“Of course, Charles. Oh and make sure you go to the shelter!” She shouted at him before he closed the door. Her head was pleasantly swimming, not too much, but just enough. She got to cleaning the kitchen a little bit. The stench was a little too much. She also opened the window and let some fresh air in. The apartment seemed like it could use it as much as she.

She went to the gin bottle again, thought about it for a second and after taking another swig, she put it away into the fridge.

The doorbell started ringing furiously.

“Ah, fuck.” Ellen sighed and remembered the bloody smear on the wall next to her.

She opened the door and it was Mrs. Aesther looking at her from behind a pained marble face with a severe disapproving look. “Ellen, what is going on? Are you alright?” There was a trained panic in her voice. It wasn't the first time she came to her apartment like this. Ellen looked at the blood. But there also was never a smear like that before it either.

“Yes! I apologize. This is my fault; my friend was in an accident. I will clean it asap! Please, you don't have to worry.” Her voice sounded alien even to her. It was already in the fun zone. Her instincts told her it was alright, but her mind was still sharp. “I really am sorry. I am going to clean it now.”

Mrs. Aesther nodded. “I will help you. Just let me get my things.”

Ellen forced a smile. “Thank you.” Mrs. Aesther was extremely sweet and she did like her, but she really just wanted to crawl into a bed and disappear until tomorrow. First the blood. Then the rest.

            She ran into the bathroom, grabbed some towels, some cleaner, some paper towels. Were they even moist? Doesn't matter. The cleaner is going to damage the wall anyway. Her mind was racing as she was grabbing everything she needed. Finally, she threw it into a bucket and went back outside. Ellen was really hoping that no other neighbors would be in the hallway now. A minute later Mrs. Aesther appeared, this time wearing a yellow apron with her hair tied and hidden beneath a scarf, ready to take on the world.

            They got to work on the bloody wall, mostly just smearing it and the dark red splotches turned pink, mixing with the white plaster. Time has passed and it was mostly Mrs. Aesther who did the work, not because Ellen did not want to do any of it, but because there was no going around the old lady. “Ellen, could you please go to the store tomorrow and buy something white we could ask Mr. B to allow us to paint over this. You know, I would go, but the paint is heavy.”

            “Of course.” Mr. B was the building manager of this block, he lived on the fourth floor.

            “That's that then.” Mrs. Aesther put her hands on her hips and inspected the results of their tolls. “We will paint over this tomorrow.”

            Ellen smiled. The wall looked horribly. “Of course.”

            “Anyway, you should get going, lady. I will clean up.”

            She collected her things. “Thank you again, Mrs. Aesther. Please don't strain yourself any further, I will paint over this tomorrow, I promise.”

            The old lady narrowed her eyes and after a while sighed. “Alright. You take care now.”

            “See you!”

            Ellen was back at her apartment, finally free from the outside’s interference. She is going to finish that gin, she thought. She opened and closed the fridge, settled herself on the bed and glanced at some of the sleeping pills. No, it is way too early for that, it is barely time for dinner, even if she had anything to eat.

Unless.

            Once again, the cursed phone interrupted her. “Who is…” She fumbled after it.

            It was Samuel again.

            She declined the call and put the phone on silent. Suddenly she became extremely tired, extremely weak. She forced herself to get up and to pour some water. The bile in her throat was burning, her stomach churning. She hated feeling like this. Ellen thoroughly cleaned Charles’ glass and started pouring. The glass felt icy to the touch, the water cold. But it left a nice sensation in her mouth and throat. She drank four and came back to bed with the fifth.

            She took the sleeping pills, drank the glass and crashed into her pillow like a doll with cut strings. She was hoping for no dreams and had trouble falling asleep. Just as she was finally settling for the sweet embrace of the black nothing, she stirred. She heard knocking, then the doorbell. She threw herself on the other side of the bed, back facing the room and the door. Thankfully she put her phone on silent, otherwise it would have already been storming her with cataclysmic vibrations. She wasn't expecting anyone and she wanted to sleep. Just leave me alone. The door kept making a noise, but it was the dark dreams that were finally opening their welcoming arms towards her.

There was the usual swirling and circling of ever-changing shapes. Too familiar and yet too distant to be identifiable. Eventually there was a stir and she dreamt of a light. It was circling her, together with the cold air. And the constant thumping of some far away washing machine. The light was chasing the cold air, but the latter was less forgiving and more violent. The light crashed into her first and the icy dress of the wind draped around her bare shoulders. She felt the firm ground beneath her feet and wanted to steady herself, look around and see what the light and the wind wanted. They were arguing. Lightning suddenly smote its crackling hammer in between them and Ellen became surrounded by complete darkness.

It felt nice.