'A Measure of Life', by Gail Brown
Albine woke early. The sun peeked over the windowsill. Barely in time to hear the rooster crow. Early enough. One more week of measurements, and then, he'd begin processing years of accumulated data.
After a breakfast of freshly gathered and scrambled eggs, he pulled out his laptop to find his client for the day.
A young woman name Dorianna. A nice name. By the name, he pictured her as a healthy woman who would be busy on a farm, possibly milking cows at the moment. It was a good name for a farm woman.
Next, he read her life facts. No farm. Not even a pet mentioned. She worked for a media company in the city, and had two children. Emelie was thirteen and Henri eleven. Her address was a semi-local suburb.
Albine glanced at his clock. They should be rising any time. He called her home phone. No answer. She was expecting him, so he prepared to meet her at her home after breakfast as planned.
He walked outside to his rose garden. Dorianna should be a delightful person. A willow rose would suit her well. He cut two and placed them in a travel vase for her and her daughter.
He arrived at her home an hour later. No car in the drive. Okay. He walked up the door and knocked. No answer. The neighborhood was silent. No cars. No people. No children playing as the summer sun began to climb to midday.
He checked the time. It was 9 am. Time to be awake and going. He called Dorianna's phone.
"Hello?"
Lots of noise and static made the conversation difficult.
"Hello Dorianna. I'm here to see you."
"You are? Where are you?"
Albine glanced around at the emptiness of the neighborhood. So different from the noisy farm he lived on.
"At your home."
She laughed.
"I'm at work. Have been for three hours. You'll have to meet me here. I have three meetings in the next hour. I'll try to squeeze a few minutes in to talk to you."
That hadn't worked. Albine was supposed to shadow her day for a few days to measure her life and be sure her life work balance was healthy.
"I'll be there soon."
He closed the connection and checked her work address. Nearly an hour drive one way. Once the distance data was entered on her Measuring chart, he walked to his car and began the drive of her daily commute.
Traffic was terrible. Dozens of stop lights that only allowed two or three cars through them at a time. People raced through the red lights, so the next road couldn't start up when they should. A dozen turns, and road name changes before he reached his destination.
Exhausted, he pulled into a pay parking garage and parked. Albine's hands shook as he picked up the tablet. More notes to add to Dorianna's Measuring chart. So far, there were only points against her life and health.
Albine walked to the front of the building indicated by her. He tried to open the door. It was locked. Beside the door was a set of instructions to ring for a guard if he didn't have an employee card. He sighed. More points tilting her life out of balance.
A guard arrived at the door.
"Your name?"
"Albine."
The guard pulled up a pad.
"Who are you here to see?"
"Dorianna is expecting me."
The guard grunted.
"One minute. We only allow three visitors in the building at a time. You will have to wait until one of those here leaves."
Albine tucked the roses into his belt loop. He made another note on his pad. He looked for a bench to sit on and relax. There was none. No birds to listen to. No grass to rest his feet in. And the sky could barely be seen through the buildings.
After a while, the door opened and a man came out.
The guard ushered Albine in.
"Dorianna will see you during her lunch break. Do you know where her office is?"
"No, I don't. Sorry."
The officer sighed. He locked the door.
"This way."
After an elevator ride to the tenth floor, the guard stepped off the elevator. He escorted Albine to a tiny, cluttered office outside a busy waiting area.
Albine knocked at the open doorway.
Dorianna looked up.
"Come in. I only have twenty minutes for lunch. A fellow worker gave me half her lunch break."
Albine blinked. Twenty minutes wasn't enough to gulp a liquid lunch, and certainly not enough to rest the brain. Ten minutes wasn't anything. Barely a breath. He tried to hand her the roses.
Dorianna marked papers without looking up.
"Tell me what you need to measure my life."
He sat the yellow roses on the desk in front of her.
"We need to talk about your schedule. I should meet with your children, Emelie and Henri as well."
She laughed.
"Unlikely. They go to before school activities, school, after school activities, and late night sports. They don't have time for talking. As for me. Here is a copy of my typical day."
She handed him a schedule. Filled full from 3 am to 10pm.
"What about weekends? Do you relax then?"
"No time. Have to take care of the house, yard, take the kids to more sports, and try to squeeze in a little reading, if there is time."
A knock at the door startled him. Another woman stood there.
"Times up. I have to go back to work."
"You haven't eaten."
She stood and looked down at him.
"Lunch is to get something to drink. No one has time to eat. Good day."
She glanced at the yellow roses. A smile half formed on her lips as the other woman pushed past her. She snatched them up.
He took the schedules she had given him and went downstairs.
Time to put his own life back in balance. On his farm.
The following day, he was at home. It would take a year to balance the life measurements of dozens of people he had gathered. Most though, were much like Dorianna. So busy racing around that they wouldn't know a rose if he handed them one. Or have time to smell it.
Gail Brown writes paired science fiction internal journey stories and novels full of hopes and dreams. She found science fiction brings hope and light through worlds of colorful dreams. It mirrors daily life as it could be. Perhaps should be, in some ways. Worlds where disability is accepted, and people live their lives without overwork and fear.