Molly’s Desk

On the boundary between the Light and the Wild is the Never-Ending Office, where Molly Most-Efficient works at her desk.  Made of ash, it has four legs and one draw, and all its edges have been smoothed to give a simple grace.

The desk has been Molly’s for thirty-thousand Wild years.  On the left-hand side are three brown trays. Facing the aisle, they wait, like open mouthed chicks, for today’s work load. They are labelled in black script; Decisions Pending; Decisions Made and Last Decisions.  Each morning Alexander (“Call me Al”), the Collector, drops a pile of scrolls in Pending Decisions, along with a smile that Molly returns with ease.

Then breathing in her favourite fragrance, Molly selects a scroll. Unfurling it, she notes the location details and taps what appears to be a paperweight, the size of her palm. This is her watch-glass. Sitting in the middle of her desk, it allows her to see events in the Wild. At first glance the centre of the watch-glass appears misty, but as Molly concentrates an image solidifies. A mortal comes into focus, but the watch-glass shows more than the normal senses.

Waiting for the image to clarify, Molly stretches her hands to the wooden frame at the back of her desk and makes sure the beads on her morality measure are set to the centre.  The morality measure looks like a large abacus crossed with a toy roller-coaster.  Different shaded beads sit and slide along thin wooden dowels, but they don’t just run from left to right they go at angles and arches, up and down, and round and round. Interpreting the morality measure is the job of Decision Analysts like Molly. Most analysts get through a few decisions each day, Molly Most-Efficient gets through many.

Watching the mortal, Molly spins, slides and positions the beads on her morality measure, like a musician playing an organ. But rather than music she produces a score.  Finished, her nimble fingers retrieve her stamp and ink pads from the draw. She sets the score and stamps the scroll.

The last item on Molly’s desk lurks in the shadowed corner, where the cubicle partitions meet. Red Tape sits in a convenient dispenser, like mortal cello-tape but rather than clear and sticky it’s blood red and once it binds something it can never be cut loose. 

Binding the scroll, Molly places it in the Decisions Made tray. Al collects these at the end of the day. At that time Molly glances at the third tray and sighs at its inefficiency. It has sat there unused for thirty-thousand Wild years. But Molly hopes one Wild day it’ll be filled, and she’ll get the chance to order an entire life, to see a mortal make their Last Decision.

In A Philosophy of Angels, Molly’s dream comes true. But in getting her light’s desire she discovers a terrible secret about herself and the Red Tape that she has so efficiently been tying for the last thirty-thousand Wild years.