Guilt upon the conscience, like rust upon iron, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart and substance of the metal.
Robert South
Reyna looked up at the clock on the wall, sighing.
‘The sixth long shift I’ve pulled and its only Monday,’ she thought wryly, ‘Atleast I got a break in eight days.’
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her neck, holding her hand against her nape for a moment longer.
She grimaced ‘I need sleep, though lord knows when that will happen.’
The reflection off of her screen, showed unkempt hair and bags under her eyes, she licked dry, darkened lips from excessive cigarettes.
The mess on her desk had yet to be organized.
A cluttered desk is a reflection of a cluttered mind, she couldn’t quite remember where she’d seen that, not that it bothered her much in any case. Her mind was keen, hell, she hadn’t gotten this far in life if she’d been dull.
‘If only mum could see that. Nothing I do ever seems right’ and she felt a deep pang of bitterness.
Of late the arguments had worsened to the point it was difficult feeling welcome at home.
There had always been that sense of frustration.
Open warfare she knew would manifest shortly, for now, it was the buildup of resentment fueled by the ever constant need for approval.
‘I hope today’s going to be OK.’ She sighed again, last week she’d stormed out, leaving her four-year-old child behind.
What had started out a mumble over a wet towel, had descended into a screaming match that had left her in tears, and her mothers voice still being heard as she walked out the front gate.
She’d spent that night out, drowning in alcohol… Seeking solace in someone who now wanted more than she could offer.
It seemed one mistake followed after another. That she liked him back was one thing.
That he was married, complicated it.
She was roused from her brooding by a light tap on her shoulder.
“Its time to go” Tilly, her closest friend and confidante.
“The drop off is parked and ready, its just you I had to return for” she smiled.
Almost a decade older, she possessed a cherubs face topped with greying hair, and hips that squeezed into the tight denim she insisted of wearing to work.
They formed the strangest of best friends.
The lithe quiet girl, and monstrously noisy bundle of energy.
“Let me pack and I’ll be out in a minute”
“You need help?” Tilly asked, an eyebrow cocked.
“I’m fine”
“I’ll wait anyway”
Reyna smiled. Tilly had always been a rock.
A rock in a rock’s body, a colleague had once said.
Reyna packed quickly. There wasn’t much anyway.
Into her bilum she tosed her phone, a lighter and packet of cigarettes.
The rest of their crew greeted them as they exited the building.
Coveralls and heavy boots, theirs was a tight knit crew.
Of the four men there, only one didnt say a word, and Reyna didn’t bother looking in his direction as she boarded the van to sit beside Tilly.
The drive home was silent.
Part of her desperate to see her son, the other, dreading the moment she arrived.
Tilly, usually dropped off earlier then she was, tonight had insisted she go home last, winking at Reyna all the while.
“The driver asked for my number yesterday” she’d whispered conspiracally as they boarded.
Reyna had simply smiled – lucky woman, at your age you’ve still got it. She wouldn’t have said it out loud.
An hour later and nearing her home, Tilly reached to squeeze her hand.
“You’re not a bad person, or a bad parent, I know you just can’t take it anymore”
Reyna looked at her, eyes slowly welling.
“I just want my mom to know that too”
“I know you do” replied Tilly, “I know you do”.