"What type of work did you have in mind?" the employee asked Skye. She took the silent opportunity to quietly slide into the chair and clear her throat. "Anything" Skye replied, playing with the dainty necklace clasped around her neck. The carpet coated the small unemployment office cubicle unsuccessfully, as it was dingy and worn. The staff members long acrylic nails clacked on her black keyboard, before she lowered her glasses to the middle of her pointed nose. "All I have at the moment is a job at the mental
hospital, sweetie"
A thick wash of stiff raced over Skye as her leg unconsciously twitched. "Oh! Well I'm not exactly sure about that" She hesitantly explained. "I know you have no experience dear, but the patient they have in mind is mild in nature and really only needs someone to talk to. Tell you what, just go home and sleep on it, then come back tomorrow, honey" The clerk responded with a warm smile "Next!" She screeched. Skye just nodded abruptly before turning and hurriedly ran out the office, her feet slamming against the rubble.
Fumbling to find her keys, Skye finally slumped into her car seat. The radio played some kind of chart song, one she thought she might know but doesn't care to notice the lyrics. Only the mood the melody places her into, almost lulling her bewildered temperament.
She rested her tired chin onto her aching palm that had cramped from the subconscious grasping of the steering wheel. Skye pulled up to the last stop sign before her newly purchased apartment. Taking a huge, riveting breath, catching the scent of rosemary mint, she stepped out of the drivers seat. The dirty grey cement stained with sporadic splotches of engine oil, made Skye's white canvas shoes stand out. It took a few solid, slow blinks of her eye before crossing the garage and entering her house.
Grabbing a jar of half empty peanut butter and a spoon, she sits down on her island in the kitchen. An irritating beeping emits from her answering machine, which finally ceases when Skye deletes the messages without checking them. She fiddles with her necklace, abrasively rubbing it against the skin of her neck.
Taking a deep breath, she decides to reach up onto the neighbouring counter and grab her cellphone, dialling the unemployment agency to formally accept the job. Amid the unpacked towers of cardboard boxes, she scratches the back of her head and spots a bent corner of paper sticking out of her unopened cabinet. She rests her temple down on the frigid tile, tucking her knees in under herself, forever staring at the yellow page.
__________________________
YOU ARE READING
Yellow Paper ♡
Romance"Fletcher is our hopeless case here. Kid pushes everybody away due to his personality disorder", he says. Leading her further down the corridor, her boss stops her in front of the only cell without clear windows. A chill of uncertainty cooly slides...
