NINE TIME MACHINES: Do you want to undo your entire life on planet earth?

CHAPTER 43

"At least they still wrote you back," Hazel offered. "That's more than they did for me."

"Really?" I ask as we enter the oval room, she in her yellow floral. "You'll feel better to read some idiot's words about why you're not good enough?"

"They're not idiots, Mary. They just don't have any vacancies."

"Sure they do." I plonk down into an armchair. "Just ask anyone who has to do three or four jobs for one salary. For every person that works for them, they've got at least three vacancies."

"That's just how the world works today. Everybody's trying to cut back. Bosses too."

"You're way too easy-going." I tie my hair into a knot. "Just the kind of worker they need to reactivate the slave trade."

"Maybe it's a good thing they sent that rejection letter. You'd have left another job for sure."

"I'd rather do that than help them cage slaves up."

"Abba, Father!" Her hands go up. "Let's change the topic. How about another bus trip?"

"What? Missing your friend in the black beret already?"

"It'll pull you out your room and hopefully out of this funky mood."

"Only one thing can do that."

"Winning the lottery?"

"Zero. But I suppose I should be grateful you didn't suggest one of your angels."

"What's the one thing, then?"

"Either I," I pause to taste my words, deciding whether to continue. "It's either the perfect job just falls out of the sky and lands on my lap, one with no labour issues or corruption; or some prince charming swoops me off my feet and away from this rotten place."

Hazel dilly-dallies with her response for a while then looks as though she's giving up responding altogether. But I know her and I know when she's about to slap you with your own wet towel. She lets me have it just as I pretend to get up and leave.

"You do know that's angel splashed over everything you just said, right?"

"Okay, I'll go for that damn bus with you." I cut her off. "What time and when?"

"Tomorrow," she replies. "Let's leave earlier to get the first one out."

"How early is early?"

"Six-ish."

"Cool, I can do that." And I really do stand this time.

"What are you going to wear? Don't tell me black again."

"Black it is."

"Then I'll wear the black floral," she announces, much to my dismay. "That way we can match and my flowers can add some sunshine to your day."

"I doubt it." Then a cheeky smile peeps out. "How about you tell one of your angels to escort us downtown. That'll make my day." And I hustle out before the shock wears off her face.