All in a Day’s Work
Azura’s hands moved swiftly, sewing closed the small opening with ease, though her mind was elsewhere. She hung the dress back on the form, then spun it around three-sixty to make sure it was done. It was a rather plain garment, the color of flour and about as exciting, but work was work. She rolled the mannequin off to the side, then cleaned up the table.
As they pushed the scraps into the trash, Azura heard the chime above the door. They spun around, but to their disappointment, it was just Mrs. Baudlin looking for more buttons. It was a little insulting, having a client who only came in looking for cheap solutions to their tailoring needs. Azura probably could have repaired the entire Baudlin family wardrobe, and crocheted a few new blankets, in the months that Mrs. Baudlin had been working on her projects. But again, a client was a client. Azura helped her customer find the cheapest buttons in the store, then rang her up. After locking the handful of change in the cash register, she decided to close up for the day.
Azura shut the blinds and flipped around the sign so it read “sorry, we’re closed!”. She turned to go upstairs and the shimmering fabric in the corner caught her eye. She ran a hand over it. The fabric was a gift from Varia La Bienenne. Varia had it imported from the crystal region. It was perhaps one of the most expensive clothing materials on Aerius. At first, Azura had been insistent that they did not want the gift. What if they ruined it? Where would they even wear something like that? But Varia had told her that if she didn’t want the fabric for herself, she could just make a garment for Varia.
That was six weeks ago, and Azura had been avoiding it ever since. They still didn’t know what to make of Ms. La Bienenne. She came into their shop every so often, looking at their wares and making small talk. But Azura knew they had shown Varia the basics of sewing. She should be able to repair a hem on her own, yet she kept bringing in the smallest of repairs. Perhaps it was the money. A La Bienenne would hardly blink at handing over a few dollars for three minutes of work. Azura knew the young woman was lonely. She lived in that massive estate with no family, no partner, not even a servant to talk to. A few times a year, she opened the gates to allow someone in the cut the grass and trim the hedges, but that seemed to be it.
Azura had to admit, she enjoyed the company. She didn’t get much interaction beyond her customers and chit-chat with the baker or her material provider. The local mushroom farmer and his husband invited her to dinner from time to time. It occurred to her that perhaps Varia would like to go with her sometimes. Then she shook her head to clear the thought.
They finally moved away from the fabric and headed upstairs to their apartment. Azura put a pan on the stove and started chopping mushrooms and veggies for their dinner. Today felt like a stir-fry and wine kind of night. The fragrant odor filled the tiny apartment within minutes. Azura’s stomach rumbled and she realized she had skipped lunch. After dumping the contents of the skillet onto a plate, she sat down and ate greedily. Her food was gone before she knew it and she found herself searching the fridge again. She popped a few baby carrots in her mouth, then poured another glass of wine.
It was getting late. They should really be getting ready for bed. But their mind was too active. Instead, Azura got out their broom and tidied up the small living room. They pushed the couch against the wall and got all the crud from beneath it. They also dusted all the cabinets in the kitchen and put away their laundry. It didn’t help. Azura forced herself to turn off the lights and try to go to sleep. She lay there in the dark, listening to the sound of chirping insects.
An hour passed, but Azura still wasn’t tired. She kicked the covers off and put her slippers on. She tiptoed downstairs, even though no one else where there to hear her. The sheet of lavender colored cloth shimmered, calling Azura like a siren’s song. She started draping it around the dress form, ideas taking shape, being scrapped, then blossoming again. Pin after pin, she secured the fabric so it hugged the mannequin like a friend it hadn’t seen in ages. Finally, Azura stepped back. They could see it in their mind. More importantly, they could see it on Varia. She would love it. Azura sat down in her chair and unraveled her thread. It had been a while since she’d had the chance to create a masterpiece.