The Living Statue

1.

All rights reserved © 2019

• • •

I have a confession to make. Yes, a confession.

Everytime someone mentions something utterly and unambiguously impossible to achieve I feel this burning, smoldering desire inside me to prove them wrong. Yes, I suppose you can call it a disorder, or  an uncontrollable obsessive-compulsive tic of mine, or even a sheer bloody-mindedness for that matter. In a way, it is all of the aforementioned above, but I simply can't help it. Just say 'you can't do this' and I will gladly jump at the opportunity to show you otherwise.

I guess that pretty much explains the reason for my standing in front of the very same building I had never thought I'd be standing in front. Explanation is simple - Northern Empire does not countenance presence of the female gender. Why though, I couldn't tell. But that restriction only was enough of a challange for me.

And so here I was, doughtily starring at two gigantic, menacing columns - and believe it or not, they starred down back at me, at that same nefarious manner. I must admit, the sight of such enormous, cold building, that somehow managed to look like a huge, antarctic iceberg stranded in the middle of the crowded, bustling  Central London, sent shivers down my spine.

But that wouldn't stop me anyway. Oh no, that threatening, mammoth structure and its chauvinistic owner had something different coming.

Well, I better stop just scrutinizing the place and get inside before someone mistakes me for a robber very eager on ransacking this precious, warm, lovely building. Although, I doubt it is possible to rob this place with an army of security surrounding it, and although I hate to admit, I doubt someone would mistake petite, bony me for a robber. The idea, however, seemed pretty alluring. I can already imagine a shocking article adorning the cover page of 'The Times':

Sloppy female robbed one of the richest, most reputable business companies in London and its owner's pride!

A ridiculously wide grin appeared on my face at the thought. Now that would be a scandal! Too bad I had to delay these plans for another occasion.

Well, here goes nothing.

With my chin high and back straight like I had just swallowed a ramrod, I marched up the marble steps and onto the front porch, which was teeming with people - is it necessary to say they were all men? - all dressed in neat but simple black suits. The fact that I was surrounded by jostling crowd of tall, walloping men didn't scare me at all. On the contrary, I had never been more excited or contented throughout my entire carrier as a human being. Despite my rather small, unconspicuous figure I felt powerfull and equal among these beasts that kept marching down their common routes without paying even the slightest attention to the intruding female.

Strange.

I thought they would freak out at the mere glance upon my not so flat chest. Then again, men seemed so consumed in their own business - carrying all kinds of boxes and folders, speaking on their phones or simply maintaining their routes to God knows where - that a nuclear bomb could've fallen and burned this place to ashes, and I'm sure they still wouldn't notice.

I pushed the steel, two-winged door and it opened with a barely audible squeak mingled with bustling sound of people rushing in different directions in the main lobby. If I thought there were a lot of men outside, on the porch, I was terribly wrong - there was a jostling crowd of people in front of me now, inside, all dressed in black, disturbingly resembling ants spreading in various directions.

It was as if I had stumbled upon some famous movie set, and all these men were extra actors dressed in previously carefully designed costumes. It took me awhile to adjust to such swarming, scrambled surrounding.