What remained of the facilities main building did a particularly bad job of presenting the quality of whatever had existed originally. The appearance was dowdy, clinical, how you might imagine the interior of a temporary prison might seem. The Walls and ceilings had obviously just been freshly decorated in an effort to hide a quarter of a centuries grime and harsh wear from plain view. Repurposed units has a distinct look, and an obvious feeling of a recent decay that cannot he erased by with lick of green paint and good lathering with even the most effective carbolic disinfectant spray.
Annette and Claudine had been blessed with the regrettable task of conducting interviews with the resident refugees. They jointly welcomed a seeming endless stream of misplaced humanity, and with the aid of government supplied interpreters attempted to discover some notion of the events-than had transpired in the previous twenty-four hours.
Claudine had expected Annette to take the lead in any questioning, but surprisingly she seemed to prefer to sit back and absorb any information Claudine could extricate from the fragments of conversation that ensued. It was obvious from the very first set of questions and answers that the refugees has absolutely certainty of the interpreters clear coating of bias in all of their translations.
“Why do the refugees have such poor opinion of your impartiality?”
Seemed to Claudine that this enquiry was perfectly reasonable on her part.
“They all just consistently lie. Makes the whole process impossibly tedious and a total waste of department finances. They all just work from a well-rehearsed script.”
The impetrator that has answered Claudine’s question was a studious looking woman in her mid-twenties, Not someone you would expect to have such a degree of blatant cynicism. Claudine exchanged a surprised glance with Annette.
‘Let’s take a break for ten minutes. I could use a trip to the rest room. “
Claudine immediately understood than she was expected to tag along with Annette on her personal break.
The interior of the Ladies facilities had survived the blast extraordinarily well.
“You’re doing really well Claudine, don’t let the animosity between the refugees and the staff get under your skin, they are just used to constantly sparring with each other.”
Annette took a pack of black Russian cigarettes out of her suit jacket inside pocket and offered one to Claudine.
“Can’t imagine anyone will notice if we have a fag, can you?”
Claudia flashed a very toothy smile and took one if the long slim gold tipped black cigarettes from the half empty pack. She had her trusty petrol lighter in her bottom right hand waistcoat pocket, and with some panache offered Annette a spark. Annette lightly gripped the offered hand between her beautifully manicured fingers,
‘Thanks Claude, okay if I call you Claude? Nice three piece by the way.”
Police sergeant Claudia Miller reddened quite embarrassingly, the kind of signal that once given is quite impossible to recover.
Daily Abstract Thoughts 