Home from work, he hopes to indulge in his hobby; however, outside forces make it not as easy as he may wish.

Seeking Escape
by Arcie Emm

“I hate my job!”

Of course nobody heard him, he would never make that statement in the presence of others. But here in his private sanctuary, sealed away from the outside world, he held no fear of being overheard. Here he could think his own thoughts, speak them aloud, and truly be himself. The him who liked pretty things, instead of the him that held such a bleak job. It was always a relief to get home and escape from reality.

Well almost always. Today he was unable to fully immerse himself in his fantasies, his job would not let him. He could gaze fondly at the pretty things in his closet, smile at their brightness, and feel the softness. But he was unable to fully indulge, for he was on call and unsure that he would have enough time to make it worthwhile.

He could gamble, delving fully into the closet and the matching accessories, that there would no need to drop whatever he was doing at a moment’s notice. However, he knew it to be a bad gamble, for there was a host of problems waiting to flare up at the slightest spark, all of which would require his team to make an appearance. The heads up he had received, before heading home, had not been one of his boss’s, the original asshole, nasty pranks.

Not that he was affected by those pranks anymore. He had stopped being the man’s victim years ago, though the period after his boss learned of his hobby had been rather hellish. It was not that his boss found it disgusting, after all they saw worse in their job, instead it was a tool to hold over his employee’s head.

That had only stopped when he began to understand his boss’s mischief, deciding that, just as he loved his pretty clothes, his boss enjoyed making people miserable. SIin order to combat being made the victim, he had developed a second hobby, gathering his own information about the problems that simmered. Over time he had become quite good at predicting the likelihood of a spark, which had allowed him to know when he could ignore his boss’s on-call assignment and properly enjoy the bounty in his closet .

This was not one of those times.

So removing his uniform, he settled for a simple, blue, house dress, ignoring the gorgeous confections in his closet. Then avoiding the mirror, as he did whenever dressed without the benefit of time consuming make-up, he removed himself from the temptations in his bedroom, seeking escape in a book.

Escape that remained elusive. Regularly his eyes were drawn to the door behind which enjoyment lingered. Constant were the questions, wondering if he had misread things, maybe the problems were not as bad as he thought.

The reasons behind his decision stretched thinner as excuses about why he should give in moved to the forefront of his mind. Soon, despite what it would mean to others, he began to hope for a summons, anything to serve as an escape from his escape. Not rational, but neither was it as ridiculous as it seemed. Therefore, he felt relief when a thundering voice broke the seal of silence.

“Come!”

Returning to his bedroom, he changed from his blue dress into the dark uniform that identified him as a member of his team. And though disappointed that he had not been able to achieve the pleasure he had sought, he recognized that, at least for him, pleasure denied was always preferable to pleasure interrupted.

“Come!”

Hearing the second summons, he began to hurry. Quickly finishing his change, he scooped up a pair of scales and rushed outside to scramble aboard the saddled, black horse waiting for him.

“Come!”

With the third summons he felt his insides twist before he arrived somewhere and saw that, once again, his two colleagues already waited, one aboard a white horse and the other a chestnut. They, unlike him, loved their jobs and so it was never surprising to find them waiting.

“Come!”

And there was his boss, riding a pale horse and wearing an expression that showed this was no drill. Instead it was a look of greed, harbingering the scope of fire that was soon to blaze. Terrible for those caught in it.

On the other hand, wherever the four rode there were soon items without owner. Maybe if he was lucky, he could find a pretty, new outfit for his closet.