I was filing through my old documents the other day, and I came across and old blog post from 2006. I had enjoyed the conversation remembered and thought that I’d post it here. I can’t spend a lot of time thinking about writing to day. I’m off to go do a much hated day-shift.
Sigh. The things I do for love…
The Conversation.
“I did LEK… 251… last quarter.” Heike puffed as she leaned against the railing. “It wasn’t… exceptionally… delightful.”
I allowed myself to drop back against the wall and glanced at my watch.
7:15am.
It was too early for this.
“I did it… last year.” I gasped. “A year early… but I wanted… to get it… out of the way. Passed it by the skin of my teeth.”
My breath was coming back.
“Why didn’t you do the other one?”
She was breathing easier as well.
Heike chuckled softly and fidgeted with her spectacle frame.
“I did.”
“Ah.”
My companion, Heike, was half German, with a pale complexion, dark hair, glasses with turned over bottle ends as lenses and a type of thin willowy grace which I admired. I would like to describe her as handsome rather than pretty, intelligent rather than smart. She had knack for understanding things that did not come with pure intensive studying.
I missed the last question she directed in my direction but quickly took a wild guess.
“252.” I filled her in.
She gave me a horrified look.
“We do NOT have 252 flights of stairs left to go!” She snapped. “Where do you want to climb to?”
Our department had 11 floors.
It was a steep, light blue building, almost in the shape of an H. The floors were high roofed, the floors wide, and the occupants many.
Today, most of them were puffing up the stairs.
Our elevators weren’t very trustworthy and today, not one but both of the main elevators AND the service elevator were out of commission.
It was a monumental day of course, normally only one or two were out of order.
There were more than a few unhappy staff but, as with all things in the Agric department, ranting and raving just didn’t work.
We were not the most unorganised department on campus for nothing.
Realising my mistake I blushed and chuckled softly.
“Heaven?”
“Help me.”
We started climbing again.
Heike and I had a strange sort of alliance which, in an attempt to keep it uncomplicated, could be called friendship. Although not outcasts we were both side line runners in our department. She was the only Goth in a group of about 200 people and I was well, me.
She never asked why I chose to remain apart from the rest of the group and I never asked her about the pentagrams and other occult signs that decorated her person.
Our Alliance was founded on the fact that I disregarded what was said behind her back about her and she disregarded the rumours that were circulating about me. It worked out well, and seeing as how we were also studying the same course (though different years, she was finish at the end of this one) with some overlapping subjects (my fourth year subjects), helped to advance what was a strange sense of companionship.
“You know what?” Heike said after a moment. “You’re mind in like the Titanic Alyssa.”
We had about 6 flights of stairs left.
“Excuse me?”
Heike carried on as if she didn’t hear me. Her English had a pleasant accent and, like me, she tended to lisp some of her s’s.
“Vast.” She continued uninterrupted. “With many levels, many activities, idea’s filtering around like people on deck…” She had to take another breath, we weren’t very stair fit. “Secrets, storage. Food.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“But ultimately, very hard to turn once set on course.”
It was a strange way of thinking about it.
I sniffed and pushed my lenses back up my nose.
“I’m trying to decide whether or not I should be insulted.” I told her off hand.
She laughed and smiled back at me.
“I did say it’s vast.” She said by way of defending herself. “And, it’s true. Once your mind is set on a subject, you don’t listen to anything else. Or hear anything else.”
Well, that had a touch of truth in it.
“I’m selectively deaf.”
“Call it what ever you want.”
“A concentration problem.”
We reached the eighth floor.
The image was stuck in my head.
“You are aware of the fact…” We stopped to take another quick break.
7:20am.
“…that the Titanic sank.”
She patted my shoulder and pulled me forward.
“It’s only a matter of time. But, don’t worry… some of your ideas will survive. You have life boats.”
I grumbled something unrepeatable.
“But not enough.”
“The curse of miss management.”
I laughed.
“At least I’m going places.”
Amusement danced behind dark eyes.
“But will you reach it?”
I pushed her down a step.
“Faster than you will.” I said. “Now come, we have to get down by 7:30am. I need to get those papers before LEK…”
“252.”
“Did that get stuck somewhere…”
THE END…
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