Short Stories

Right This Way

Note: This story is rated PG for mentions of ableism and references to a traumatic accident. It may be unsuitable for people with psychotic spectrum or dissociative disorders. Click the comment on this paragraph for more info.

I clean the hologram table with a special wipe. Once, one of the artists said their hologram looked wrong and it was because of a smudge on the glass. Now I wipe the tables every day so it'll be nice for everyone else.

I don't use hologram tables for my art because I like the real stuff. But lots of other artists do. Everyone is different and that's okay. I will make it good for them.

Some places use robots for this stuff, but the studio doesn't, because my job is special. They need a human who truly understands art. I don't just clean for them. I organize, I give advice to artists who want second opinions, and I help with the afternoon classes.

I'm lucky to be here. Nobody cares that I talk slow or tries to figure out what gender I am. My nametag says "Haven, they/them" and they just read it and understand. Best of all, they ignore the scars on my face. I started this job 5 weeks ago and it's a dream come true.

My watch buzzes. It's time for my lunch break!

I hang up my smock and tell my boss I'll be back in one hour. Then I go sit on the bench in the hallway by the stairs.

My best friend, Vera, walks down the stairs. She works at the office upstairs and we take our lunch breaks together. "Haven! Hi!" she says with a big grin.

"Hi, Vera!" I'm always excited to see her.

"Where would you like to eat today?" she asks me. "I was thinking the Chinese place or maybe that new cat café."

"Definitely the cat café," I say.

We step into the fresh air. "Right this way," Vera says, leading me to a moving sidewalk.

"Can you believe all the changes in the city?" I tell Vera. "So much new stuff appeared this month!"

"Do you like all the changes?" Vera asks me.

"Totally," I say. "The new ice cream place is so cool. The cat café is too. But do you miss the martial arts place? I know you and Suki took self-defense classes there."

Vera shakes her head. "Not at all! We decided we don't need that anymore. This city is friendly, so I know we'll always be safe here."

"You said always!" I declare and I elbow her in the ribs.

Vera laughs. "What?"

"You said always," I repeat. "Remember? You teased me about that word when we were littler. 'Cause nothing in life is for sure."

Vera laughs awkwardly. "Well, that was the old me! Now I'm certain that we'll always be safe here. We don't need self-defense, but we do need a cat café. Anyway! What else do you think about the changes around the city?"

Sometimes, she acts weird lately. I don't want to make her uncomfortable, so we can change the subject. "Hmm. I love the new moving sidewalks. They help so much when my leg is having a bad day."

We pass by someone who is walking his dog on a regular sidewalk. The person smiles at us and the dog wags its tail.

"Also, it's like people got nicer," I tell Vera. "Did you notice that guy didn't stare at my scars?"

Vera shrugs. "Your scars aren't important. Why would people care?"

I mean, I like it when people ignore my scars. When they ask, I have to either avoid the question or tell the truth. And "I was in an accident as a teenager that killed my mom, broke my dad's heart, and left me disabled for life" isn't my favorite topic.