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Jule's Story

I've been working as a receptionist, in central Shutter City, at the DoubleD Corporation. An anti-deforestation company in the middle of what could only be considered the leading contemporary tech-city in the country. I received average pay, for tedious work, from dull managers. But it put money into my pocket and eventually into the hands of those crafty debt collectors. Home Shopping Network? Try Homeless Shopping Network, because that's what you'll be, homeless, after spending a half an hour buying baseball cards that you never thought you wanted with players printed on them you never heard of before. It's so darn tempting though. And that is especially true when the auctioneer adds an item to the deal, that has absolutely no relation or relevance to the item that you didn't plan on buying in the first place, for free. A bonus katana with the purchase of a set of three economical ice cube trays!? Count me in!

But my work kept me from spending quality time in jail for credit fraud. Dull, event less work. I woke up every morning hoping that Jonathan, the fifty year old janitor assigned to my office building, would stay true to his word and burn my office down just to prove that nature shouldn't screw with humans. What a crazy guy.
I once recited the company slogan to him a few months ago-Let trees live, Let us Breath-in which he politely replied, "Let trees live, my ass!" He's not much of a naturalist, and he doesn't have to answer to my boss which means he's pretty much able to say anything he wants. Plus he's black, old, and color blind; he's just been through too much to tell him otherwise.
That was where I was headed, to my "job of jobs". But over the last week, the train ride proved far more exciting then its predetermined destination.
For the last few days I've been eying a "regular" who took the same morning train that I did. She was currently sitting a few seats over from where I stood. I could smell her rose-scented perfume. Her odor masked the scent of dirty socks and body perspiration; scents that usually blanketed the morning train ride without bias. Odors that burned the nostrils and smells I've reluctantly became accustomed to. People are never truly grateful of what they have until they accidentally smell a homeless man's armpit. That's what I deserve for sitting so close to the guy. But with such a large crowd in the passenger car, it wasn't like I had a choice.
But I did choose her. I code-named her blue-eyes, because she had

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