seymoure

Chapter 50

The Choice of Anger

She dressed with hesitation.

Not because she was holding back, but because of what met her eyes when she opened the closet.

Harriett had never been one to buy bright colorful clothing. Her mother had been the child of the tie-dyed generation; she was not so showy in what she wore. Her wardrobe was more about functionality than fashion.

And yet her dour choices had never excluded any sign of color whatsoever.

But here before her were nothing but black cloth. All flat aspect fabrics, not even anything shiny.

She was suddenly Amish.

She went from 5 pairs of shoes (not a great number for a female, but that is another subject for another time) to one pair of dull black boots.

None of the clothing was uncomfortable; they felt like something that she might have bought, but still.

With an unease she couldn’t quite identify she got dressed and walked out of her house, to her formerly red car. It was now grey, with black interior.

The sky was not playing nicely either.

It was devoid of blue. This moment the skies were black and the clouds were grey, the next it was just the opposite.

As she drove she noticed that no people were on the streets. No one was in the shops, no one was at the community college she always passed. No one was walking in the dog park.

No one was anywhere.

Dante found that her hands were shaking. This was as close to an apocalypse as she ever wanted to be. Forget that, this was closer to an apocalypse than she ever wanted to be.

She stopped her car suddenly. There was no traffic, it wasn’t dangerous. No one was on the roads.

She closed her eyes and hoped it would go away.

When she opened her eyes everything was as it should be, bright sun above, colors all around. She looked in her mirror to see if she looked different.

The color was gone again.

“They’re screwing with me,” she said.

Now they had made her angry, and that was a mistake.

Her father had a way of using his acrimony; her mother was a vessel of peace.

“People cannot be afraid and furious at the same time,” he told her, “You lose all feelings of helplessness in the throes of a good pique. As long as you keep control it can be a tool that gets rid of a lot of negative energy and gets you over the feeling of being a victim.”

Harry Dante taught his daughter: “Channeled rage is something that has been used by Football Coaches and Housecleaners for years.”

She had known him to clean the entire house in a single shot, but he didn’t want to talk to anybody while he did it. She had seen him launch a volley of curses under his breath while mowing their large lawn, but only years later did she understand.

She withdrew her handgun from her holster and put it on the seat beside her.

It was time to get angry.

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