Big City Monday

Snow on Sunday night, mud on Monday morning
Long lines everywhere, people are growling
No trains in sight, everything delayed
Two flakes of snow and my city’s half-crazed
Central Station’s busy, I order a Chai
The guy at the counter unfriendly, I sigh
My Evil Queen outfit the smoke screen I need
Paired with her posture, I feel more upbeat
Until on the boardwalk I see a dead mouse
Its corpse fully smashed, in slush fully dowsed
The sight of it breaks me, my eyes water fast
My issues on hold now, this image will last

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Reflections on a Queen

Part II

“Come again,” he says, his eyes unfocused like his mind.

“Do you want Karen for the early shift or Thomas,” I fight hard not to sound annoyed for this is the third time I ask.

“What day are we talking about again?”

I breathe in deeply, faking a smile. “Monday,” I reply in a voice that surprises me myself. How on earth did I just manage to stay so friendly?

“Ah yes,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Who else do we have?”

“Two shifts, two colleagues available,” I moan. Now there it is, my impatience in full bloom and I know my Medici glare is not far away.

“Right,” he agrees, his eyes squinted as if he’s trying hard to focus. Concentration it couldn’t be, because after 90 minutes into our meeting I know for certain he has none whatsoever, especially not today.

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