Two hours. Two hours of waiting in a hot building, smudged between a torrent of people. Enola wasn’t even sure she was in the right line anymore.
“Next.”
Her eyes popped open – it was her turn! She was next in line!
“Yes! That’s me! I am next!” Enola approached the desk like a thirsty person approaching an oasis.
“Name?” The lady at the desk, a cliché of secretaries, smacked her lips as she played with the gum in her mouth.
“Enola Gay.”
“Well, Ms. Gay, you’re going to have to fill out this form and take it over to that line.”
“Oh… oh please, no. There has to be an alternative!”
“Nope. NEXT!”
Enola took her new pile of paperwork and slumped away to the most empty corner she could find. She leaned the papers against the wall, filing them out as apathetically as one could:
Name: Enola Gay
Age: It’s not nice to ask a lady her age.
Sex: No thank you.
Address: That one house in Hargeon Town.
Are you a member of a legal guild: Yes.
Have you ever been convicted of a felon? Umm... no?
Do you have any health issues? Please check below.
[ ] Asthma
[ ] STD
[ ] Cancer
Emergency Contact: Zuo Cii
In case of an emergency, how can we reach your emergency contact? I don’t think he wants to be contacted.
Marriage Status: (Teardrops stain the answer line)
If a woman, have you ever or are you now pregnant? I don’t think so. That chair I sat on yesterday looked pretty gross though, so maybe.
Once finished with the application, she made her way to the required line. She peaked up to get an estimate of how long the line actually was… she couldn’t even see the front of the line.
Waaaaah! She was crying on the inside.
One and half hours passed and it seemed as if the room was only getting hotter. Enola, along with everyone else in the line, was drenched in a pool of sweat. The guy in front of her was swaying back and forth as if he was about to pass out from the heat; and he did – he passed out right there in the middle of the line. Enola seized the opportunity took his place in line.
Sorry, fellow. Only the strongest will get a passport.
Thirty minutes later and Enola was swaying back and forth as well. The man behind her, eyeing her spot in line like a vulture, noticed.
“Maybe you should just go sit down and rest, miss.”
“No… no chance... must not lose place in line."
Another hour passed. Then Two. Three hours…
“Next!”
The pool of sweat and flesh that was Enola stepped forward and gracelessly placed her forms on the desk. The woman at the desk inspected the forms with dagger eyes. The suspense was lethal.
“…Everything seems in order. Here you go Ms. Gay.” She slid a passport over the desk.
“Victory….” Enola passed out.
HP: 100%
MP: 100%
WC: 520
“Next.”
Her eyes popped open – it was her turn! She was next in line!
“Yes! That’s me! I am next!” Enola approached the desk like a thirsty person approaching an oasis.
“Name?” The lady at the desk, a cliché of secretaries, smacked her lips as she played with the gum in her mouth.
“Enola Gay.”
“Well, Ms. Gay, you’re going to have to fill out this form and take it over to that line.”
“Oh… oh please, no. There has to be an alternative!”
“Nope. NEXT!”
Enola took her new pile of paperwork and slumped away to the most empty corner she could find. She leaned the papers against the wall, filing them out as apathetically as one could:
Name: Enola Gay
Age: It’s not nice to ask a lady her age.
Sex: No thank you.
Address: That one house in Hargeon Town.
Are you a member of a legal guild: Yes.
Have you ever been convicted of a felon? Umm... no?
Do you have any health issues? Please check below.
[ ] Asthma
[ ] Diabetes
[X] Glasses/Contact Lenses
[ ] STD
[ ] Insomnia
[ ] Depression
[ ] Cancer
[ ] Leukemia
[ ] Anemia
Emergency Contact: Zuo Cii
In case of an emergency, how can we reach your emergency contact? I don’t think he wants to be contacted.
Marriage Status: (Teardrops stain the answer line)
If a woman, have you ever or are you now pregnant? I don’t think so. That chair I sat on yesterday looked pretty gross though, so maybe.
Once finished with the application, she made her way to the required line. She peaked up to get an estimate of how long the line actually was… she couldn’t even see the front of the line.
Waaaaah! She was crying on the inside.
One and half hours passed and it seemed as if the room was only getting hotter. Enola, along with everyone else in the line, was drenched in a pool of sweat. The guy in front of her was swaying back and forth as if he was about to pass out from the heat; and he did – he passed out right there in the middle of the line. Enola seized the opportunity took his place in line.
Sorry, fellow. Only the strongest will get a passport.
Thirty minutes later and Enola was swaying back and forth as well. The man behind her, eyeing her spot in line like a vulture, noticed.
“Maybe you should just go sit down and rest, miss.”
“No… no chance... must not lose place in line."
Another hour passed. Then Two. Three hours…
“Next!”
The pool of sweat and flesh that was Enola stepped forward and gracelessly placed her forms on the desk. The woman at the desk inspected the forms with dagger eyes. The suspense was lethal.
“…Everything seems in order. Here you go Ms. Gay.” She slid a passport over the desk.
“Victory….” Enola passed out.
HP: 10
MP: 100%
WC: 520
