Late to Work

You know, I do remember that day when the feathers fell. It was a funny thing to wake up to – or it must have been, anyway, for other people; I’d overslept and the blinds were shut, so I was spending those first few minutes running around trying to throw myself together into something decent, without the time to look out of the window. It was a bit of a shock when I finally got out the door, because I was still chewing on some toast and was pissed I hadn’t had the time to butter it or make some eggs, and I felt my foot slip on something, which made me stumble and nearly inhale some crumbs. As I was throwing my arms and head around to stay upright and breathing I believed that it was somehow snowing.

Snow in April! But no: the flakes were too big, and they weren’t all white – there were black ones and brown ones too, and some that were brighter, reds and greens – and when the wind hit it was far too warm. No, they were feathers alright, falling from the sky. Too many all over the place to be someone upstairs having a laugh; maybe a plane filled with pillows exploded up there? I couldn’t afford to dwell on it though. I shuffled my way towards my car, past some other people who were staring up, mouths slack open, trying to make sense of it. One of them turned to me, an older woman. “What do you think it is?”

I shrugged. “A bunch of feathers.”

“But what are they doing? Where are they coming from?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure my commute will be a nightmare, though.”

She gaped at that. “You can’t be serious! You think things will be open in all this?” My stomach dropped thinking about that – I needed the store to be open, so I could afford gas and groceries tomorrow. I headed to my car without another word.

I had to take it slow on my way to work, since the feathers were falling so thick that my tires had trouble gripping the road and my visibility was shit. It may as well have been snow for all that, though the feathers didn’t stick to my windshield, at least; just drifted over and around the car before swirling around in the wake. There weren’t a whole lot of other drivers on the road – most of the other people I saw were standing outside staring, as if there were nothing else to do – but I was still stressed, since I had been out the door a bit late to begin with, and now I had to practically crawl across town, and the whole time I was trying to tell myself there was no way the boss was going to hold it against me if I ended up being ten or fifteen minutes late on account of this.

All told I was only five minutes late, but I was still the first person to get there, and since the store wasn’t open yet and, for security reasons, employees couldn’t be in the building alone, I had to wait outside. The feathers had slowed a bit, but didn’t show any signs of stopping, and the ground was becoming harder to make out. I took the opportunity to check my bank account and my email, just to see if any of my job applications had gone anywhere. The way things were going at the time, I’d have been lucky to be in a better position before the next month’s rent was due.

I was starting to worry we really weren’t going to open after all when my coworker drifted in. We got everything set up like normal, though he was a little slow and sullen throughout the process. I tried to see if anything was bothering him, but he didn’t seem to appreciate my questions. He spent the rest of his shift standing at the register and watching the flurries out the window. Not much needed to be done, so I gave him his space.

Business was slow, as you might imagine, but the people who came in had a good amount of energy. One woman pulled me aside in an aisle to show me one of the feathers she’d found, and tell me how she actually knew exactly what kind of bird it came from, a barred owl, and could I guess how she could tell? Later a child came in with feathers sticking out of her hair in every direction, and as she ran around they fell everywhere until she gave up trying to pick them up, and I had to sweep after she left. I ended up doing a lot of sweeping that day, actually, which was bothersome, since I was trying to focus on some bigger projects that I’d been waiting for opportunities to work on. But I felt better than I had in the morning, since I’d made it to work alright, and with a couple other employees calling off I could get some more hours in.

The evening shift arrived and they were all talking about the feathers, showing off their favorites that they found and sharing theories about where they came from. Some of them asked me about them, but I didn’t have anything to say, really. “All I know is, my landlord isn’t taking them in place of a check.” That got a couple chuckles, and then someone brought up something they’d read online about birds and lightning, and their conversation went in new directions that I wasn’t part of.

After work wrapped up I drove home. By now people had gotten over their shock and were gathered in groups to run around in the feather-fall. As I watched they grabbed clumps of down and tossed them into the air, gathered them into piles and jumped into them, laughed as more spun around their heads on their way to the earth. I wasn’t likely to be invited out by anybody, and I wasn’t sure what I’d say if I had been. When I made it back home got to work on dinner and played some games for the rest of the night.

And that’s it, I suppose. By the next morning the feathers had stopped and the city was cleaning them up. Pretty strange, really, but I suppose strange stuff happens every once in a while. The world doesn’t have to stop turning for it – and it doesn’t, really. Still got bills in the mail the next month.

Oh, actually, there is one other thing I remember. After work I ran across the street to get cat food, and as I was walking back to my car there was a young woman at the crosswalk, all covered in feathers. As I was waiting there she said… gosh, what was it? … she said, “it must be the angels. The old feathers are all falling away, and new ones are going to replace them.” And I had to think about that for a bit, because it didn’t seem to sit right with me, looking at these things clogging up the gutters and getting under peoples’ collars. I might have said that couldn’t be it, that angels wouldn’t be losing their feathers for any good reason, but maybe – but then the walk sign came on, and I tucked my head in and hurried along, leaving those thoughts behind with the woman, who smiled serenely as a small ruby feather danced into her open palm.