Being Dysfunctional Has Never Been So Much Fun
Short #263: A boring Monday morning


"Ah... Gertrude is so cool..."

Waiting in the lengthy queue for the photocopier on an overcast Monday morning, there was little else for Cornelia to do other than stand around, crinkled papers clutched in her hands, and be bored.

On Mondays the offices of Heaven were always hit with an influx of forms and reports that had accumulated during the weekend, when most priests were allowed a small respite in their otherwise busy working days. Therefore, this long line at the photocopier was something Cornelia was accustomed to.

Unfortunately, the young third class priest wasn't particularly good at standing still for long stretches of time. She was an energetic, hot-blooded girl who always had to be moving; always had to be doing something- otherwise, she felt like she was wasting her time.

It made her feel like a failure.

When Cornelia signed up to become a member of Eiserne Jungfrau, she'd thought she would spend a lot more time actually sentencing witches- not just signing things, dating reports and printing out sheets of paper. Although Cornelia didn't want to insult her job, which she thought highly of, she couldn't help but getting a little bit restless from time to time.

She wanted to be out there doing something. She wanted it so badly it felt like her blood was moving too quickly inside her little body; telling her to move, and fast.

Cornelia twitched; toes curling up in her regulation black shoes, fingers routinely reaching into her bobbed hair to play around with her favorite yellow ribbons.

She bit her lower lip.

She checked her cuticles.

She sighed.

She pouted.

She looked at the floor.

And, as the very slow moving line snaked just a little bit closer to the photocopier, Cornelia's eyes caught on something... rather interesting.

It was far more interesting than the dirt under her nails, or the bloated fish swimming lazily in their tank in the corner, or the blindingly white d├ęcor of Heaven's offices.

From this viewpoint, Cornelia could clearly through the glass window of Gertrude's office, and Cornelia- filled with respect for those who were actually experienced when it came to conducting real trials- couldn't help but watch her. Gertrude was not doing anything particularly exciting (it was a Monday morning, after all); she was poring over a few reports spread out on her desk, with a look of concentration in her piercing red eyes... but even so, every single inch of Gertrude seemed hewn from steel; standing to attention. There was such an aura of maturity and severity about the first class Iron Maiden that Cornelia couldn't help but feel a little inadequate about how she herself had been internally complaining earlier.

Gertrude was such a hard worker. She never complained, even when she had to fulfil boring tasks. She completed them all flawlessly, with a cool kind of grace and elegance. The way she held her pen, and pressed it expertly to the white paper, even made Cornelia's heart flutter.

Gertrude... really was Cornelia's ideal.

Cornelia wanted to grow up fast and become a wonderful person just like her.

"Yeah... Gertrude... really is cool..." the younger girl whispered under her breath; her awed voice inaudible to everybody except her (though those reading her lips from a distance might have assumed she'd something about pork cutlet sandwiches). "I... I'm going... to do my best... to be just like her... I-I can be that responsible too. I-"

And then a monotone voice just a little behind jerked Cornelia out of her resolutions quite effectively.

"Hey. You're next in line for the photocopier. You're holding everybody up, idiot."

Cornelia's face turned light pink.

"U-uwah...! I-I'm sorry... ...!"


The ever mature and responsible Gertrude sighed softly to herself; idly signing a bunch of dull forms Dlanor, by all rights, should have been doing herself (that girl had no tolerance for repetitive tasks like this)- but her mind was one thousand miles away.

Internally, Gertrude was fretting.

I hope my cats back home have enough food... I did leave out enough, didn't I? I'm sure I did. I must have done. But what if I haven't...? I don't want them to start chewing up the couch again...! Aah, I wonder why they insist on doing that? Maybe I should talk to Mr. Willard; he has a cat, so perhaps he is a better pet owner than myself... But, was there enough food...?

Even the mature and responsible Gertrude could get distracted sometimes.

Especially on a Monday morning.


a/n: Haai, I'm back n_n And hopefully I can start updating this collection regularly again now ^_^;; Sorry for the delay.

~renahhchen xoxo