I'm walking to the bathroom across the street from our shop when she stops me.

"Did you just come from that shop? Are you one of the prop makers?" she asks. She's tall and thin, stooped and gangly, like she grew too quickly and is now permanently bent, like a flower with a too-tall stem.

"I--" I hesitate. "I guess, yeah."

She laughs. She's nervous. "What's it like? To be a prop maker?" She barrels on before I get a word in. "My friend, she wants to get into props, but I don't think she really understands. I thought maybe I'd send her here. So what is props, exactly?"

I...I don't know. I fumble for the right words.

"We-e-ell," I say. "We do hand props, weapons, and set dec. But not big set dec. I mean, those people are in a different shop. But, like...if there's a bunch of computers, someone else will build the unit, and we'll make the computer panels. That kind of set dec."

She nods. She clutches her black portfolio to her chest. She doesn't seem to understand.

"Do you think I should send my friend to your boss? He seems nice."

I hesitate. Words bump and shove against the backs of my teeth.

He doesn't let women use tools--

She'll be wasted there--

It's actually a pretty shitty place to work--

"Yeah," I say slowly. "He's nice. He..." I can't help myself, the words squeeze out through gaps in my teeth. "...he doesn't hire women very much, he..." Fuckin weird about women, some sort of hang-up, confirmation bias-- "...I don't know why. It's kind of a thing. He's nice, though." I finish lamely.

She frowns, nods, jaw set. "Well, maybe we'll change his mind."

I smile. It feels tired.

"Yes, maybe we will."

~

The days click closer to Canada. I feels unreal. I say goodbyes. They feel unreal.

I have fights and fights and fights in my head with my mother, like a boxer preparing for a fight.

I just feel exhausted by them.

I sell a bunch of my clothes on Ebay. I should sell more, but I know I'll just end up giving the rest to a charity shop. What to do with the shoes? I have too many shoes. Why did I buy so many shoes?

I procrastinate and do not do a test pack of my luggage, like I swore I would do this weekend.

And I scratch. I scratch and scratch.

~

Rosie.

Before&After