PERSEPHONE
There have been a lot of great songs about the humble fire, considering the destructive nature of fire, it is unlikely that it would care about the songs being created about it, besides, fire is far more content to listen to the sound of logs crackling as they are consumed. Indeed, fire can destroy, however, it can also sustain life. After all, eating raw meat would give one a terrible stomach ache to say the least. Upon realising that humans were eating raw meat, fire decided to offer up its services to the humans and cook said meat for them, safe in the knowledge that if any of the homosapien runts gave it grief it could burn them to cinders. When a popular dating app made its name a reference to fire, it was pleased greatly and became a strong source of pride. Humans foolishly believed that they had mastered fire when in reality, fire was just kicking back and lapping up the worship afforded to it. Fire’s time would come at the end of days and oh boy would it be more than a little lukewarm. As a side note, it is not common knowledge who this Luke is, and or was, and why a vague gamut of temperature is named after him (or indeed her).
Fire was not impressed when humans spread the myth about Prometheus being the one who gave them fire. It was not some sprightly demi-god in skimpy attire but fire itself that gave itself to humans. It was pretty bored at the time and saw the advancement of the human race and deemed them the most worthy vassals to enact its destructive endgame.
Percival is a somewhat unusual name to give to a female, which is probably why she liked to be known as Persephone. She was one of the edgy adolescents who had taken up smoking at the age of sixteen and wore leather jackets even when the temperature demanded more airy clothing. She had painted her hair black and pierced various parts of her body including but not limited to: nape, left nostril, right eyebrow x 4, both ears for a combined total of 12 in the hearing department and, rumour has it, her right nipple, although that was never confirmed nor denied by Persephone.
She was now in her mid-twenties and life hadn’t quite gone according to plan for Persephone. Her parents believed it was due to her gothic attire and bleak outlook on life, which is understandable when you consider there aren’t many CEO’s of large companies with faces full of metal. They had hoped that she would become a doctor or lawyer like her sister and that her negative demeanour was just a phase, they hadn’t taken into account the popular adage that once you go black you never go back – pretty sure that applies to fashion and nothing else at all. Persephone was still a smoker, some habits are had to kick and smoking is certainly one of them, right up there next to being addicted to throwing lettuces at pedestrians from the top of a bus, some habits die hard, others get hit in the face with a lettuce.
“Gotta light?” Said a gentleman in a long leather coat and a cloak.
“Sure” Persephone handed her friend a cheap lighter, the stubborn ones which always require multiple strokes to ignite, maybe they just craved physical contact, or maybe they were just cheap.
“Sigh” Said the gentleman
“Sigh” Answered Persephone. That was how most conversations went in her circle of friends, a bunch of people all dressed in black sighing to each other until it was time to eventually head back to whatever bedsit they spawned from.
The pair smoked in relative silence, save for the occasional sigh and then parted ways. The gentleman went to a place where Persephone knew not where and Persephone went back to her shared dwelling. Her place consisted of eleven people in a three-storey house with eight bedrooms. Naturally some people doubled up, the lucky ones had a double bed to themselves and Persephone had a room that was just big enough for a single mattress on the floor and a wardrobe. Because everyone in the house had service related jobs there was a constant stream of people coming and going at all hours of the day. There were even people living in the house that Persephone had not met, having only encountered six of the inhabitants and even then only in passing on the way to the bathroom or in the shared kitchen. She was loathe to make any human contact and so resorted to buying a microwave in her room so that she could avoid going into the kitchen entirely. It wasn’t feasible to install a toilet and a shower in her room and so going to the bathroom was unavoidable, and yet because of the random shift patterns of her housemates, she was never left waiting to use the facilities.
Persephone sat on her single mattress and rolled another cigarette. She opened the window a little to avoid setting off any fire alarms but still smoked on her bed using an empty energy drink can as an ashtray. Her room must’ve smelled of cigarettes constantly, however, she was so used to it that she could never tell. Her mattress was covered in cigarette burns, no doubt she would lose her deposit if she ever moved out. Despite this, Persephone was always sure to stub out any cigarettes completely before going to sleep. She had heeded the warnings that one must never smoke in bed, the kind on such infomercials where one cigarette causes an entire apartment complex to burn to cinders. She eventually went to sleep in the early hours of the morning in order to get some shut eye before her shift that day.
Persephone worked at a coffee shop, one of the smaller independent coffee shops and not in a large franchise store by the likes of Cost-a-lot-for-a-Cup or Caffe Caligula. Frankly, her city was overrun with these independent coffee shops and hair salons, so much so that the only real reason to go into the city was either to get an overpriced coffee or to get a haircut, any other inclination could be satisfied by going online.
Her shift started at 9am, considering Persephone went to sleep at 3am and set her alarm for 8:20am that would leave her with just enough time to set her alarm to snooze twice and then jump in the shower and dress for work. She had followed this routine since she started several months ago, she found that it left her feeling just the right amount of tired so that she wouldn’t care about the customers and provide the bare minimal amount of service expected of her. The bonus of this routine was that in being so tired she could maintain her bleak outlook on life and therefore justify her appearance, because if she had multiple piercings, always wore black and dyed black hair people would expect her to be bleak, if she had a positive disposition then people would be utterly confused and likely implode. People imploding was a nice thought for Persephone, but she couldn’t afford the luxury of nice thoughts.
Persephone’s work uniform consisted of a black polo shirt with a dark grey apron and black trousers, the manager didn’t mind what shoes were worn with the outfit as long as they weren’t too garish. One of the employees at the store wore a pair of fluffy panda slippers to work and was promptly fired because the manager had an affinity for pandas and loathed the notion of wearing them on one’s feet. Feet are repulsive after all. The uniform pleased Persephone though and was one of the main attractions to the job. She had previously worked in a supermarket where the uniform was bright orange, Persephone left after one day and burnt the uniform, making it a nice shade of black which she found pleasant. She had donned her outfit and was heading to the bus station, rolling a cigarette as she walked.
People would often stare at Persephone on the bus, people often stared at things they didn’t fully understand. That being said, when there was a person wearing a table on their head complete with a basket of bread while on the bus people stared then, probably not because they didn’t understand it but because it was pretty bizarre. That and the bread looked rather delicious.
“Alright darlin’ how about a splash a bit of white on ya” It was not uncommon for Persephone to receive such comments as she rode the bus, even from the driver.
“Single to town please” She had to make the request unfortunately because she hadn’t gotten a bus pass, she wasn’t old enough to merit such a thing.
“There you are luv” The driver handed her the ticket and made sure to touch her fingers as he did so.
Naturally, the cool people gravitate to the back of the bus, and if it is a double-decker bus then they gravitate towards the back of the top deck. This was single decker bus and the back seat was occupied so Persephone had
to sit at random hoping that she would scare off anyone who thought to sit next to her. Alas, that day was particularly busy and a kindly old lady approached Persephone and sat beside her. Persephone was aghast at such a thing, even the slight accidental human contact would send shivers down her spine. The old lady was blissfully unaware of Persephone’s discomfort, as they typically are, and even let out a long wet fart. The old lady was wearing a hearing aid and had probably lost her smell because she carried on as normal and made no remark or apology. Persephone had to hold her breath. Sadly, it was one of those bowel movements that even if you stopped breathing through your nose you could taste it in your mouth. It was unbearable.
To avoid the stink, Persephone got off the bus a stop early and decided to walk the rest of the way which granted her another opportunity to smoke another cigarette in the hope that the cigarette smell would mask whatever odour she had caught on the bus. When she arrived at her work she was only fifteen minutes late. The manager didn’t notice because she was always arriving thirty minutes late, the other employees didn’t care because their souls had already been drained under the crushing weight of mundanity and tedium. Persephone’s duties that day were to make the coffees, mercifully she wasn’t on the checkout duty that day because any form of human contact was detestable. The only advantage of working on the checkout was that they could deliberately misspell a customer’s name on the cup or get it wrong entirely. The real reason this is a common occurrence in coffee shops is because the employees get a kick out of it, they know full well how to spell ‘Sam’ but choose to spell it ‘Zsamizal’ because that is the only form of entertainment they can get in such a position.
“Two Zwansig cappuccinos and a mocha-latte with hazelnut” It wasn’t entirely clear why this coffee shop chose to use German numerals for the cup sizes, probably because it sounded European and therefore exuded a certain class and sophistication. In reality, it was a load of tosh and only served to confuse the customer.
“One espresso over-easy, chocolate sprinkles, dash of caramel and make it a Sieb-Zehn” The orders were coming in thick and fast, much too fast for Persephone to handle on her own, and yet the terminology had been so embedded in her brain that she could discern exactly what the customer wanted and was simply acting on muscle-memory.
She thrust the coffees on the counter which were then eagerly picked up by the customers who in turn took a look at their names and conveyed an expression of bewilderment and annoyance.
“How can you misspell Asherbanipal” One of the customers muttered under their breath.
“Funf und zwansig bacaluccioprima with caramel” Persephone sighed her usual sigh, this order was going to take a while and involved many different elements including, but this time limited to, coffee beans, hot water, milk, caramel shot. She glared at the customer who made the order who simply fired a smile back in her direction. Bastard. The customer was already waiting at the collection counter and took the coffee directly from Persephone’s hands. He immediately dropped it on the floor, splashes of the liquid landed on his trousers in a rather unfortunate location.
“Ow” Was the summarised and expletive-free version of what he said upon receiving the scalding hot liquid on his crotch. None of the employees were in any hurry to help him out and simply stood gawping at him, a couple of them stifled a giggle. Thankfully the manager was just arriving at that moment to see the tail end of it.
“I’m so sorry, sir. Here take a seat and we’ll get you some tissues, this one is on us” She looked over to Persephone with an accepting expression. She wasn’t angry at her in the slightest because such things are bound to happen in such an establishment and frequently did. It should come as no surprise that on occasion, when someone orders a hot beverage they would inevitably spill it over themselves. The coffee cups did say ‘CAUTION, contents hot’, this was even included on the cups used for the cold beverages which wasn’t very logical but most likely in an effort to keep the overheads low.
The gentleman declined the offer to sit and just took his coffee and left, what became of him is irrelevant. Irrelevant until now, the man had to go to a hospital to be treated for first degree burns, or third degree burns, possibly even fifth degree burns depending on which is the most severe. He died shortly after because they had to amputate his nether regions and couldn’t stem the bleeding. None of this came back to the coffee shop and therefore none of the employees, Persephone included, were aware of this occurrence.
With most service jobs it is a given that the majority of the employees are smokers, some of them even smoke cigarettes. The employees were often paired up for their lunch breaks in an attempt to get more colleagues interacting with each other and more productive as a result. In reality, it just meant that there were two people smoking outside and staring at their phones during lunch. Persephone was one of these people, on that day she had Topher with her, a teenager of slim build who had decided not to go to university and enter the world of work instead. He was generally pleased with how that decision went and certainly quick to boast about how he had money whereas his student friends had none and would likely be in debt for the rest of their lives due to crushing amounts of student debt. Persephone knew this about Topher, but not much else as he was constantly on his phone. The extent of their conversations would often be surrounding who had a lighter and that moment.
“Got a light?” Topher asked of Persephone who fumbled in her pockets in vain.
“Here” Topher leaned over with his cigarette and Persephone clicked her fingers, thinking it would annoy him when he realised that neither of them had a lighter. What happened was that Persephone clicked her fingers and her thumb caught fire. Topher lit his cigarette.
“Thanks” Topher returned to staring at his phone while Persephone began staring at her thumb.
After a couple of seconds staring at her hand digit, she couldn’t feel it starting to burn. Though she rarely felt anything. After a couple more seconds she had to shake her thumb in order to extinguish the flame. Her thumb was a little blackened by the fire but otherwise OK. Upon return to her post as coffee maker, another order came in thick and fast.
“Drei double-choca-hazelnut-latte on the rocks with a pinch of salted mutton” The establishment’s best seller.
It was a wonder how nobody had ordered it before then. Because the order was such a common one at that coffee shop, Persephone could make it with her eyes closed, and frequently did so in order to catch up on some much needed sleep. She decided it wasn’t wise to sleep while making the coffee this time round as her manager was watching her like a hawk after she had made her previous order. She wasn’t being a malicious manager, but had to appear as such in front of the customers. Persephone had completed the order, not in record time, but in a reasonable time that only left the customer waiting for ten minutes instead of the usual twelve. The customer was at the collection counter and took the coffee right from Persephone’s hands. This time, the customer didn’t spill it all over herself, but instead spilled it into her handbag. It was fortunate for her that she didn’t get any of the scalding hot liquid on her, not so fortunate for her phone though, which promptly melted.
“I’m so sorry miss, we’ll make you another one free of charge and give you this voucher for a free coffee next time you visit” The manager attempted to calm the customer who was fuming. A scene was brewing alongside the coffee.
“There won’t be a next time! I want that girl gone! And then I MAY consider returning, but don’t hold your breath!!!!!!!!!!” The multitude of exclamation points indicated that this was not a happy customer at all.
Unfortunately, the manager was pressed into a corner, she had no choice but to let Persephone go.
“I’m sorry Persephone, but we have no choice but to let you go” She said.
“You’re sorry!? She melted my phone dammit, you shouldn’t be sorry for that negative Nancy at all” The customer had every appearance of being one who liked to cause a scene, it was apparent from the m
oment she walked into the store. Though it was unacceptable at how she addressed Persephone as Nancy, she had her name clearly spelled on her nametag in big bold letters, you could be forgiven for thinking it read Nancy if one had extremely bad eyesight though, but even then it was a stretch.
Persephone was nonplussed about being fired and simply pulled her pack of cigarettes from her apron and lit one as she left the building, ensuring to blow a bit of smoke in the direction of the customer who caused her sacking. That’ll show her, she thought. The customer was still bellowing as Persephone left, but she could no longer hear her expletives over the sound of her droning metal music with lyrics that weren’t discernible and sounded more like a man – or in some cases a woman – screaming in agony. Persephone thought she would add further insult to injury by extending her middle finger towards the customer while walking away. As she did so, the tip of said finger caught fire.
Persephone suddenly found herself with more hours in the day than she had originally thought. She could go back home and sleep but it was far too early for such nonsense. Instead, she called the gentleman from the previous night. She didn’t know his name but felt compelled to meet him, but first she would have to return home and get changed into more suitable attire.
There was a general hubbub in her shared house, people were in the kitchen and so it was best to avoid that area. When Persephone was on the stairs she heard the door open and so promptly rushed upwards to avoid the pleasantries and tedious small talk that would inevitably ensue had she dawdled. She slammed the door shut, not in anger, but because she had left the window open which always caused the door to slam without Persephone ever knowing why. The room was cold as a result and so Persephone had to get changed in a hurry. She felt drawn to this guy, she didn’t know why or how to explain the emotions she felt when thinking of him, maybe she liked him, whatever his name was. But she didn’t like him enough to take a shower before meeting him. She picked up a can of deodorant and sprayed it on herself.
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