“Worlds Apart”
It was bitter, exhaustion was setting in and only now did she realise how cold she was. The flimsy uniform dress seemed to be porous, letting in every gust of icy breeze. As it flapped at the hem, she pushed it back down hopelessly for the umpteenth time. Astrid rubbed at her arms in a vain attempt to warm herself, hugging herself as she paused at the shop window. Even her jaw shivered; she didn’t think she’d ever felt so thin or tired.
The puffy jacket on the mannequin looked so warm, and there were boots too, lined with fur. ‘Sheepskin’, whatever a poor sheep was, its skin looked warm. They sat atop a tower of fake snow covered boxes. Astrid looked down at her own boots, she could see them, observing them like this though, she realised that her feet were numb inside the black leather. There was so much distance between her and her feet, they didn’t even feel like hers, it was like she was looking at someone else’s. It wasn’t until she wiggled her toes to make that ownership connection, that the pain shot through them, stiff and aching and throbbing. She sucked the air between her teeth and winced.
She turned her head both ways, sweepingly checking the deserted street, then back at the warmth that was only separated from her by a pane of glass. It would be so easy; all she had to do was break the glass.
She’d never stolen anything in her life, well nothing of any consequence. But this was worlds apart from a sly drink taken at the end of a shift, or a pen left by someone who probably wouldn’t remember where they’d left it. Worlds apart, ironic that phrase, it had never been so true. The price tags meant nothing to her, she didn’t even know what the ‘£’ symbol meant, never mind what the figures actually amounted to in realistic terms.
She couldn’t say how long she deliberated, minutes felt like they were being stretched by the agonising moral dilemma. She needed those clothes, the city was empty. No-one would even know, would they? Only her. The brick went hurtling through the window, shattering the double glazing into a thousand tiny squares that dropped like an avalanche and pooled and scattered. She shielded her face with a cringe, shrinking into her achingly cold shoulders, to the piercing invasive sound of the alarm.
She didn’t think it mattered whether they fitted, she wasn’t shopping, she was taking what she needed. Utilitarian that was all this was, not stealing, not properly. But as she slid her arms into the padded ski jacket, it hung from her tiny shoulders like she was a bedraggled child in her mother’s clothes. Even in her panicked rush to get in and out, common sense kicked in. Besides, she was already here. She’d done the worst part.
Standing in the window display still, she squinted further into the shop. She hadn’t looked before. It went much further back than the darkness had implied. An entire shop filled with jackets and sweaters, quilted pants, gloves and hats, boots; ‘ladies piste wear’ the sign to the rear of the counter said. Clothes that would fit her properly, boots that she could run in without losing them. A jacket which wouldn’t let in the cold under baggy cuffs and down a gaping neckline.
When she remembers now, she couldn’t tell you how it happened. She only remembers that she was about to leave, flee from the devastation she’d left and the ever deafening alarm after rifling through the shop. Wracked with guilt, but feeling warmer already. And then somehow, she found herself wrenching a metal arm from a display, wedging the flat end into the crack in the till drawer and hurriedly stuffing the pieces of paper that bore the same ‘£’ symbol as the price tags into her stolen pockets. Just do it, don't think about it Astrid, just do it. Panicked fingers fumbled and notes dropped to the floor in her wake.
She’d need it. The city might be empty now, but it wasn’t going to stay that way. She didn’t know how long she was going to be here. It wasn’t stealing, this was ‘worlds apart’ from stealing... wasn’t it? She felt sick to the pit of her stomach as she ran far from the alarm that was ringing out her crime into the night sky.
It wasn't worlds apart, it was no different. But at least she had a chance now.
Muse: Astrid Peth
Word Count: 762
Prompt: Quote “It's okay if you mess up. You should give yourself a break.” - Billy Joel @ justprompts
The puffy jacket on the mannequin looked so warm, and there were boots too, lined with fur. ‘Sheepskin’, whatever a poor sheep was, its skin looked warm. They sat atop a tower of fake snow covered boxes. Astrid looked down at her own boots, she could see them, observing them like this though, she realised that her feet were numb inside the black leather. There was so much distance between her and her feet, they didn’t even feel like hers, it was like she was looking at someone else’s. It wasn’t until she wiggled her toes to make that ownership connection, that the pain shot through them, stiff and aching and throbbing. She sucked the air between her teeth and winced.
She turned her head both ways, sweepingly checking the deserted street, then back at the warmth that was only separated from her by a pane of glass. It would be so easy; all she had to do was break the glass.
She’d never stolen anything in her life, well nothing of any consequence. But this was worlds apart from a sly drink taken at the end of a shift, or a pen left by someone who probably wouldn’t remember where they’d left it. Worlds apart, ironic that phrase, it had never been so true. The price tags meant nothing to her, she didn’t even know what the ‘£’ symbol meant, never mind what the figures actually amounted to in realistic terms.
She couldn’t say how long she deliberated, minutes felt like they were being stretched by the agonising moral dilemma. She needed those clothes, the city was empty. No-one would even know, would they? Only her. The brick went hurtling through the window, shattering the double glazing into a thousand tiny squares that dropped like an avalanche and pooled and scattered. She shielded her face with a cringe, shrinking into her achingly cold shoulders, to the piercing invasive sound of the alarm.
She didn’t think it mattered whether they fitted, she wasn’t shopping, she was taking what she needed. Utilitarian that was all this was, not stealing, not properly. But as she slid her arms into the padded ski jacket, it hung from her tiny shoulders like she was a bedraggled child in her mother’s clothes. Even in her panicked rush to get in and out, common sense kicked in. Besides, she was already here. She’d done the worst part.
Standing in the window display still, she squinted further into the shop. She hadn’t looked before. It went much further back than the darkness had implied. An entire shop filled with jackets and sweaters, quilted pants, gloves and hats, boots; ‘ladies piste wear’ the sign to the rear of the counter said. Clothes that would fit her properly, boots that she could run in without losing them. A jacket which wouldn’t let in the cold under baggy cuffs and down a gaping neckline.
When she remembers now, she couldn’t tell you how it happened. She only remembers that she was about to leave, flee from the devastation she’d left and the ever deafening alarm after rifling through the shop. Wracked with guilt, but feeling warmer already. And then somehow, she found herself wrenching a metal arm from a display, wedging the flat end into the crack in the till drawer and hurriedly stuffing the pieces of paper that bore the same ‘£’ symbol as the price tags into her stolen pockets. Just do it, don't think about it Astrid, just do it. Panicked fingers fumbled and notes dropped to the floor in her wake.
She’d need it. The city might be empty now, but it wasn’t going to stay that way. She didn’t know how long she was going to be here. It wasn’t stealing, this was ‘worlds apart’ from stealing... wasn’t it? She felt sick to the pit of her stomach as she ran far from the alarm that was ringing out her crime into the night sky.
It wasn't worlds apart, it was no different. But at least she had a chance now.
Muse: Astrid Peth
Word Count: 762
Prompt: Quote “It's okay if you mess up. You should give yourself a break.” - Billy Joel @ justprompts