Change of scenery [Night]
Apr 9, 2012 15:15:41 GMT -5
Post by raven494 on Apr 9, 2012 15:15:41 GMT -5
Ayla didn't like water. She preferred firm, solid ground underneath her feet. It was only when the earthquake rippled through the district, splitting open the earth, leaving a path of rubble behind, that she was reminded that nothing could be taken for granted. It was one of the few times she had felt true fear.
Walking through what used to be a fine maze of streets, what was left resembled the clogged up arteries of a dying heart patient. Buildings were reduced to poofs of ash, some pieces of metal sticking out like bones of a skeleton.
Ayla's house had been spared for the most part, which she owed to location and sheer luck. The roof above the kitchen had collapsed, but since her parents never cooked it wasn't a tragedy. Not that her mom viewed it that way. Just the look of it made her wail and it didn't matter that the neighbors had to live in a tent. 'That's different,' she'd sputtered and Ayla had merely shaken her head.
Since the restaurant she used to work at had burned down, Ayla needed a new job. There was enough to do in the aftermath of the quake, but Ayla didn't have any special skills that could be of use when it came to rebuilding homes, lives and easing grief. She'd tried to cheer up children, lugged around household items, but she mostly watched as others did the complicated work. Plus, Ayla needed money. She'd been helping a friend who lost all her belongings, but her savings were rapidly decreasing as a result.
Then, one morning she spotted an ad put out by a fashion design company. They were looking for new talent. Ayla knew she wasn't really what they needed. With being a career any blossoming creativity was squashed immediately. Everything but improvisation that is. And improvise Ayla could. So she hoped that somehow along the way, she could convince them to hire her.
Lost in her own musings, she'd arrived faster than she thought.
The building had some cracks, but held up extremely well compared to others in the vicinity. Yet, instead of looming over her, it seemed to lean back, waiting for her to make the first move. Dressed in a high waisted black skirt, a purple blouse she'd bought from a diamond wearing gipsy at the market, Ayla took a deep breath walked up the steps.
Inside, she was met by a clean dressed woman with extremely sleek hair. Ayla wanted to touch it to see if it was real, but restrained herself, even just barely. When it came to that she was still a kid.
"Hi, um..." she fidgeted visibly."I am here for the job interview, with Layla Vasques." For some reason it came out like a question. The woman nodded, turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner. When she came back, accompanied by someone, Ayla gaped. Whatever she had in mind, nothing could have prepared her for the sight of the woman in front of her. Ayla had never seen someone that extravagantly dressed in her life. She wanted to say something, but she was at a loss for words.
Walking through what used to be a fine maze of streets, what was left resembled the clogged up arteries of a dying heart patient. Buildings were reduced to poofs of ash, some pieces of metal sticking out like bones of a skeleton.
Ayla's house had been spared for the most part, which she owed to location and sheer luck. The roof above the kitchen had collapsed, but since her parents never cooked it wasn't a tragedy. Not that her mom viewed it that way. Just the look of it made her wail and it didn't matter that the neighbors had to live in a tent. 'That's different,' she'd sputtered and Ayla had merely shaken her head.
Since the restaurant she used to work at had burned down, Ayla needed a new job. There was enough to do in the aftermath of the quake, but Ayla didn't have any special skills that could be of use when it came to rebuilding homes, lives and easing grief. She'd tried to cheer up children, lugged around household items, but she mostly watched as others did the complicated work. Plus, Ayla needed money. She'd been helping a friend who lost all her belongings, but her savings were rapidly decreasing as a result.
Then, one morning she spotted an ad put out by a fashion design company. They were looking for new talent. Ayla knew she wasn't really what they needed. With being a career any blossoming creativity was squashed immediately. Everything but improvisation that is. And improvise Ayla could. So she hoped that somehow along the way, she could convince them to hire her.
Lost in her own musings, she'd arrived faster than she thought.
The building had some cracks, but held up extremely well compared to others in the vicinity. Yet, instead of looming over her, it seemed to lean back, waiting for her to make the first move. Dressed in a high waisted black skirt, a purple blouse she'd bought from a diamond wearing gipsy at the market, Ayla took a deep breath walked up the steps.
Inside, she was met by a clean dressed woman with extremely sleek hair. Ayla wanted to touch it to see if it was real, but restrained herself, even just barely. When it came to that she was still a kid.
"Hi, um..." she fidgeted visibly."I am here for the job interview, with Layla Vasques." For some reason it came out like a question. The woman nodded, turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner. When she came back, accompanied by someone, Ayla gaped. Whatever she had in mind, nothing could have prepared her for the sight of the woman in front of her. Ayla had never seen someone that extravagantly dressed in her life. She wanted to say something, but she was at a loss for words.