2.2 When shall we meet again?

Whoop whoop, my first day at work! I was so excited that I got up at the crack of dawn. Those lovely birds that had been bothering – no, delighting – me half of the night were silent now. Obviously, because everybody had to sleep at some point. I was thinking about running outside, singing at the top of my lungs, just to wake them up. But then I decided not to, because that would probably make my neighbors angry, too.

My fridge, surprisingly, was almost empty. Having eaten in the diner the night before, I had no leftovers now. That never happened at home, our fridge was always full. For a few minutes, I was sad, but then I realized that whining wouldn’t help. So I threw some ingredients together, and made myself something that I called “cereal a la Alf”. You don’t want to know what was in it. In retrospect, I wouldn’t want to know, either.

 

Then it was off to work. I was really excited about what was going to happen, and had put on the oldest clothes from my closet as a precaution. If I was really supposed to donate organs, there would be blood, and I didn’t want to get my pretty clothes dirty.

 

Well, the first day was okay. I was introduced to all my co-workers (also donators? Who else was working in the hospital, besides them?), and also to my boss. You will never guess who sat in that office. Her black hair emphasized the shape of her face, and when she smiled, the sun went up.

Wait, I’ve heard that song before. Alfie, you just quoted yourself from the last chapter.

But it’s true! The lovely mystery lady from the diner, Molly Coddle, was my boss. Molly, that’s such a wonderful name…
 

To unwind from all the blood I had seen, I went over to check out the gallery. Some pictures delighted me, some…didn’t. 

Unfortunately, I got there late and the gallery closed after a few minutes. Although I couldn’t understand how it can be too late to have a closer at art, but that’s the stupid policy. I would just come back the next day.

Back at home, I checked my messages. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything, because I knew like five people in this town. No, make that four. The two boys whose names I had forgotten instantly, Anna-Liza Riddle (not Liza-Marie… embarrassing.) and my boss. Oh, Molly... Anyway, this is why I didn’t expect anything. Who would write me? Well, Molly did. She asked me to bring breakfast for my colleagues the next morning. Apparently, this was some sort of tradition for new people in the hospital. Would they later use the leftovers of the roles to absorb the splashes of blood? Yuck, better not think about it. Maybe I should read something light before going to bed. Nothing that included blood, or murder, or vampires, or roles, or breakfast. So “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” was out, as was “Twilight”. Shoot, I had wanted to read that for ages. Which one, you ask? Um… the latter. *blushes* Aaaaanyway, maybe I find a comic somewhere.