Yes, a story. Probably fiction, although maybe not for someone.
Two weeks to go, and then it’d be the start of a new year. A new life, new prospects. And a new job in a new town.
With nothing to stand in her way, Roz packed what she wanted to keep, tossed what was tatt, and donated what was left. Getting away from this life of always working, whether in the office or at home, was about to end. She was going to the coast, to a job with dogs in a day-care centre, and living free of the influence of her family’s strictures and oversight.
In the car went everything that was different. The new style of clothing that suited the beach, new towels and sheets, new attitude. It filled the little hatchback to the max, including the front seat with her laptop and notebook.
Two days driving from Kalgoorlie to Coffs Harbour, two days of stiffness worked through every muscle and sinew of her body, and it was worth every second.
Temporary accommodation was arranged, and she checked out the address online, but first she wanted to see the place she’d be working.
The address was one street back from the beach, the business website bright and cheery. She followed the directions and pulled up at the corner. Check the number. Somewhere in the middle. She counted off the buildings as she crawled slowly past. Pulled up in front of the big glass windows with graffiti of dogs and people smiling and playing. A good sign.
She got out of the car and walked over, peered through the window.
A flat, open space, an empty interior. Dust. Dangling fluoro’s. Through the hanging webs and insulation she saw a light at the back. She cupped both hands around her eyes to get a better look.
Not light. An open door, hinges broken.