In the Soup

chapter 1:

"Kansas was right, we really are just dust in the wind."

Sedona sat, as she often did, on the front porch of a home in the desert that she probably wouldn't live to pay off. She lights a Camel and inhales deeply as she closes her eyes and leans her head back, letting the morning sun bathe her face. As she exhales she starts to hear the different sounds of birds and lizards rummaging in the fallen oleander leaves: A moments peace at last.

Lately, she really had been working to the best of her abilities which she was still trying to fully figure out, but her particular path required oaths and devotion - a path that she stumbled on more than once and more often than was necessary . She called it her normal but everyone else on the team knew it was a vital energy leak and completely avoidable. It really showcased her stubbornness and left her feeling vulnerable. today was the day that would make or break everything, and not just for her. She had received warnings, but…

“What the fuck. So much for peace”

Sedona leaned forward, snuffed out the Camel and took a full deep breath which she held and then slowly released. She reached down and continued to lace up her boots, thinking it was ridiculous having 19 eyelets on any boot. But these ones have been around longer than most of the people in her life and as she finishes up the last bow, her mind momentarily shifts back in time when these boots were standard issue. Everyone who were "signed up" for the program got a pair at the end of training because by then those feet aren’t getting any bigger. Materials were hard to come by, they said. Before that, all shoes were rotating hand me downs. in fact, these boots she went through so much to earn were taken from one of the fallen. Who knew how many times they had been a dead man’s shoes? But, once upon a time, they were brand new and even if they were a pain in the ass, they were like a second skin.

Sedona slapped the familiar soft leather snuggling her calf, satisfied with the fit after all of these years and stood from her seat on the porch. She straightened her uniform taking care to mind each seam and each button. As she was looking down, vigorously preening the wrinkles she’d acquired, Sedona heard the sound of a familiar engine. She jerked herself straight and looked at the old watch she wore immediately and tapped it on the face a few times.

“God dammit. I always forget to wind it. Sorry, Mom”

The revving of the engine reminded her that there was no more time to fuck around. She smoothed her skirt a final time as her stride quickened to a jog down the unusually long walkway where her ride was waiting.

"Whoooooo..." Sedona let out her breath as she threw herself into the passenger seat, and continued, "That walk gets longer every day."

Her comment was met with spinning tires and the sound of gravel panging off the row of metal mailboxes nearby. Sedona smiled as she pulled a Camel out of the pack and gently placed it between her lips. Driver never spoke to her. Not even once in all of these years, never once engaged. It was pretty creepy when she thought about it. And she had had a lifetime to think about it. But there Driver was. Every day like clockwork for the last 25 years. Sedona reached across her body to crack the window as her other hand was occupied blindly searching for a lighter in her blazer pocket. Once her fingers found their target, she flicked the lighter and her shoulders relaxed. She melted into the seat a little and released a thick plume of tabaco smoke into the air as the outside world became a blur through the window. It was going to be a long day and, if by some chance it was her last, she was going to milk it for all she could.