A fire in her workplace leaves E Vestigio in an inexplicable mood. Her post touches on the confusion in her mind when dealing with a horrific experience as well as the conflicting emotions of losing what is normally a source of annoyance but also habit.
These are someone else’s stocks that we work so hard to clean and sort. This is someone else’s soot that we diligently scrub off from under our fingernails in the camaraderie of utter exhaustion. The dusty mall is unrecognisable. A once-bright corridor, now lined with black walls, opens out into a patch of dank, alleyway light. The children’s play area just ahead is a garish, grotesque fantasy wrapped in red and blue plastic.
It is a weird kind of buffering, this sense of unbelonging.
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