BoneDust

Winter was just around the corner. This morning was crisp and cold. A dusting of snowfall had come in the night and frost clung to the bedroom window in lacey crystals, giving a hint of rainbows to the morning light that shone on Ursula’s face.

Her eyes slowly opened. She stretched the sleep from her arms and legs and let out a small sigh. There was never enough in one night. With the inevitability of the day now looming over her, Ursula felt slight pangs of regret for staying up so late playing The Never-Deep when she could have been catching more sleep. Precious, precious sleep.

"Well at least--"

“BEEP BEEEP BEEEEP!” sounded the alarm on her phone. Rolling her eyes, she reached for it and quickly silenced the irritating noise.

“Almost.” she lamented. The sound of the alarm always set her nerves on edge. Usually, she woke up right before it went off and was able to silence the accursed thing, but not today.

"You win this day evil alarm," she hissed as she sat up in bed and checked her phone for messages. A weather alert flashed out a warning about snow which caused her to roll her eyes for the second time this morning. People in this area were so jumpy about snow, but Ursula knew a few flakes were nothing to concern herself with.

Still trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep, she took a long moment before she forced herself to sit at the edge of the bed, dropping her feet into soft leather slippers that lay where she kicked them off the night before. Finally she rose and stumbled blurry-eyed into her bathroom. The house she lived in had an odd layout. The two bedrooms each had an adjacent bathroom, but there were no other bathrooms on the ground floor. This meant that any visitors had to traipse through a bedroom to use the bathroom. Fortunately, visitors were a rarity in this house.

She reached into the shower and turned the handle, unleashing a spray of icy water. While she waited for the water to warm up to a tolerable temperature, she brushed her teeth and went through all the usual motions of her morning routine. She pulled her fingers through her hair to loosen the tangles then slipped out of her pajamas. Her bare skin prickled in the cold morning air as she set the timer on her phone to ten minutes. She then laid the phone on the windowsill and stepped into the now steamy shower where she stood in the stream of hot water and let the warmth wash over her.

The contrast of the hot water and the cold air was invigorating. The heat seeped into her muscles, and only then did she realize how tense they had been. But it ended too soon with the familiar, grating noise of her phone screaming at her to get out. The bathroom was still cold despite the hot shower so she dried off as quickly as she could and wrapped herself in a bathrobe.

Ursula studied herself in the mirror. A fair-skinned girl with a sprinkle of freckles across her face gazed back at her.

She reached for the small, pink makeup bag that sat on the bathroom counter and pulled a few little pots and potions from it. Her makeup didn't consist of much--mostly eyeliner and a bit of lip gloss. Whenever she went to buy makeup, the sales girls always tried to sell her heavy foundations and concealer to cover her freckles, but Ursula liked them and never covered them.

Her hair was easy too. One side was clipped short and didn’t require anything. The other side hung almost to her shoulder in messy waves that she was content to simply towel dry and leave untamed.

When she was done, she returned to her room long enough to throw on a pair of dark jeans and a faded pink polo, then she headed downstairs for some breakfast. She really hoped that her mom had made her something. Bacon would be nice. It was a bacon morning.

As she entered the kitchen, she saw to her disappointment that there was no mother cooking breakfast. In her place was a yellow sticky note. Ursula snatched it up with a sigh.

"No show at work. Had to leave early. Luv you!"

"Well, looks like I'm on my own, as usual," she mumbled to herself.

In fact, everything was just as usual today. And why shouldn’t it be? Today was just like any other day after all. Except that 21 years ago to the day, Ursula happened to have been born. She supposed it was not that big of a deal for her though. She didn't like to drink. She had already tried that well before today and found that she hated the way it made her feel. But now she'll have to deal with people bothering her to go to bars or whatever. Constantly now. She had already said no to the same guy at work like seven times when he kept asking. Finally, he got mad at her and called her a dyke, but at least he left her alone afterward. Good riddance. She rolled her eyes at the memory.

She went about searching the fridge and opening cabinets, trying to find something that she could make to eat within her limited time frame. She stared into one relatively barren cabinet. Why were there so many boxes of oatmeal?

She hated oatmeal. Who did her mother think was going to eat all of that oatmeal? Pushing past the oatmeal boxes she was relieved to find a box of chocolate puffs. There wasn't much else to choose from sadly, so she ended up going with some two-day-old apple pie that tasted like a fridge and a bowl of semi-stale cereal. At least it was “chocolate” flavored. She also found a morsel of cheddar cheese ensconced in plastic wrap, which she stashed in her pocket for later.

She sat down on the living room couch to eat. Her mom must have dashed out the door in a hurry because she left the TV on and now some blonde lady in a smart blue dress was cheerfully discussing the snowy weather with her cohost. Too cheerfully, Ursula thought as she shoved a spoonful of puffs into her mouth. But she didn't have time to channel surf because the search for food took up too much of her time, so she just let it play. She had to walk to work, and she really did not feel like running all the way there if she happened to get distracted and leave too late.

She took another bite of cereal and looked up to see that now there was a news reporter standing on the side of a street with a cityscape behind him. There were firemen and police rushing around and Ursula was sure she saw some military personnel as well. In the distance behind the reporter were several burning buildings and plumes of heavy, black smoke billowing up into the sky.

"That's what I've been told Jan. As you can see, we already have emergency personnel, first responders here. There hasn't been an official death toll released, but we do know that one of the buildings has collapsed with people inside."

The man looked shaken but was trying to compose himself as the camera switched back to Jan-the-cheerful-news-anchor where she sat in the comfort of a fake office with a fake window behind her. "In case you're just tuning in, we just got back from Tom who lives in Chicago right now. From what we've been told, there seems to have been a series of attacks. Authorities on the scene have yet to confirm if these attacks were acts of terror, but a number of buildings are on fire and—Oh! This just in! It seems there has also been an attack------"

Ursula turned the TV off and stood up from the couch. Cities hundreds of miles away may be burning, but if she didn't get to work she might not be eating anything other than oatmeal ever again. It was time to go and she hadn't even finished her cereal.

She was already running late. Maybe tonight she should cut back a bit on gaming and try to get up a little earlier tomorrow. She hurried for the door and swung it open to find that there was a plump man standing in the doorway wearing a blue shirt and shorts that looked a size too small. One of his hands was upraised, poised to knock on the door. Under his other arm, he held a package wrapped in brown paper. It was the mailman and Ursula thought he looked as cold as he did surprised.

"Woah, psychic or something?" He said jokingly.

Ursula smirked. "Of course."

The man stared at her for a few moments without saying anything. People always stare. They stare at her grey, almost silver white hair. It was a genetic rarity that popped up in her family. Her grandfather had it, but not her father. When she was little, doctors had told her mother that it was an extreme form of poliosis, a condition which causes patches of skin to have no melanin. It some cases, it can also cause white hair. But Ursula could not help but wonder if that diagnosis could explain why even her eyelashes and eyebrows were silver. She had been accused of being albino many times, but she could tan just fine. When she was younger she would dye her hair an ordinary brown because kids at school harassed her over it, but in her teens she stopped doing that because she decided she didn't care what other peoples’ thoughts and opinions were. These days she didn’t give her hair much thought. She was resigned to the fact that she would probably never know exactly what caused her unusual appearance, but

she supposed it was simply some aberration in her ancestral genetic code that happened a long time ago.

She gave a small cough to try and shock the man from his stupor. It didn't work.

"Package for me?" She prompted, anxious to be on her way.

The man blinked a few times and held out an electronic device for her to write her signature.

"Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Package for Ursula Eldridge. Please sign here," he mumbled, his fat cheeks turning slightly red from embarrassment.

When she was done he handed her a decent sized box. It had a good weight to it, Ursula thought, her curiosity piqued. But she did not have time to open it so she stuffed it in the coat closet by the door and stepped outside, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Nice shorts,” she smiled wryly as she pushed past the still gawking mailman.

“Um, have a good day, miss!” he called after her as she jogged down the steps and up the sidewalk towards work. “Stay warm!” His voice trailed away as she went. She thought she heard him yell out something else, something about her hair. She figured it was a compliment but the noise of a passing car drowned out his words.

As she flew by the neighbors’ house, one of them came out to visit her. He took off from the porch, running full speed in Ursula’s direction, so she halted a moment to say hello. She never could resist him. He sidled up to her feet, curling his body around her ankles.

“Mow” he said, looking up her with curious eyes that were just as orange as the rest of him.

“Hi, Lemonade. How are you today?” Ursula smiled down at her favorite neighbor.

She might be late but she knelt down to pet the kitty anyway. Every morning he ran out to greet her and she would give him whatever breakfast scraps she thought he might like. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the bit of cheese that she had stashed away earlier.

“Mow” he said as he nommed the treat down.

Ursula scratched behind his ears and then stood back up and continued her hurried jog to work.

“See ya later Lemonade!” she called back over her shoulder.

❧

The way was chilly, and her cheeks flushed from the cold. But she had always liked the cold even as it cut through her, making her grit her teeth. Something about the frosty bite in the air felt nice. They didn't get that many truly winter days around here and she was determined to enjoy it. She hadn’t even bothered with a coat or a jacket because she wanted to feel the sting of the cold. Plus the walk to work only took her about fifteen minutes if she hurried, and it saved time to not wear a coat because she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a place to stash it when she got there.

The few people passing her on the street gawked at her unseasonable attire but Ursula didn't mind. The only people to have a say in her wardrobe were the authors of the company dress code, but luckily their only requirement is that she wear a collared shirt. To appease the powers that be. Ursula condescended to the polo, grateful that they let her wear jeans.

As she rounded a corner, a gust of wind caught her full in the face and made her gasp. She smiled at the shock of it. Sometimes she did wonder why the cold didn't bother her. Her mom said it never really bothered her dad either and she always blamed him for the fact that growing up, she could never keep a coat on Ursula let alone mittens or a hat. Meanwhile her mom hated anything below 70 degrees and layered herself in flannel and wool at the very first hint of autumn.

She told Ursula that was why she had moved them out of Massachusetts, down to Virginia after Ursula’s father passed away. She said it was to get away from the cold. But Ursula knew it was because she didn't like being around her father’s side of the family. Her mom would make up excuses when asked about it, but Ursula figured it was because she was too proud to admit the truth. That truth being, Mom had come from a really poor family and Dad was just the opposite. His family was quite wealthy, in fact. But since he died Ursula and her mother had been living from paycheck to paycheck. Her dad’s family knew that and still didn't help them.

Yet Ursula had met her grandparents a number of times and they never seemed to dislike either her or her mother. Perhaps there was more to it. She honestly didn't know and since her mother refused to answer any questions, she was in the dark. She supposed she could always contact them herself. She had thought about it number of times, but she just never seemed to get around to it.