There was no reason to speak to them. They don’t take this job seriously, not even during a crisis. They laughed and goofed off like there was something to laugh or goof off about. Being an Agent was serious work: she couldn’t bother associating with such an unsophisticated crew. But deep down, the ostracization got deep into her now aching heart. She ignored it. She was right, and LaMesha convinced herself it was true. Though it was a hard assertion to believe. Her thoughts exhausted her and the sight of the long stairs above didn’t help.
Past the lobby of judgment, there was a hike. Next to the stairs, an elevator stood with an “Out of Order” sign that had been there for months. LaMesha weighed her options. The stairs had less torture forward than the loathing group behind. Tired, her body leaned against the handrail as soon as she hit the first step; her forehead brushed against the wall occasionally as she went up; each step put pressure on her feet as if stepping on thorns. She needed new boots. But Geogen couldn’t provide new ones until next year.
