No Matches

Image courtesy of toxictale via Click image to return to the artist.

Marlena flipped through the untidy stack of papers anchored by a glass of water. It was four minutes to midnight; there was no use pretending it was champagne, despite the occasional bubble clinging to the side of the glass.

She flicked her pencil eraser against the table top as the numbers danced and swam through her tears. There was no way to make them fall into line. They were unruly, malevolent markings in her blurred vision.

She tugged the wrists of her fingerless gloves and wiggled her toes inside the two layers of wool socks. Heat wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Shivering heroines always managed to look romantic in period dramas, but her pink tipped nose didn’t look like the Little Match Girl’s.

Of course, Marlena knew how that story went.

So she went back to the columns of numbers, wobbling down the screen of her computer, sighed deeply and began to calculate afresh.

9 thoughts on “No Matches

  1. Is it weird that my hands are cold after reading this?

    Love this: “They were unruly, malevolent markings in her blurred vision.”

    You cornered the numbness of resignment. Beautiful.

  2. You, my girl, have been one hell of an inspiration this past year. Knowing you-and reading your writing has been an absolute honor! Happy New Year’s Cam, and here’s to more great writing in 2012! xx

  3. Those numbers. They will not do as they are told. Will someone elucidate how to make accounting creative enough to make me well-off?

    Poor Marlena. You write her plight so well. Hope the next year proves lucrative for her.

  4. I love this line: “They were unruly, malevolent markings in her blurred vision.” Emotional words included with the visual words and it works so darn good! You are my metaphor hero because you use it so perfectly!

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