Spring Travelling For Seasonal Business
We’ve done this for thousands of years, you’d think by now I could get a VIP pass or something…
20251229
Written for Luna Asli Kolcu’s “Myths of Winter - Week 5” event.
“Name?” Janus doesn’t even look up at me. You’d think having two faces would mean one of them was customer-facing.
Also, we’ve done this thousands of times now. Why does he insist on acting like this is the first, and we’ve never met? He calls it ‘professionalism’ but it just feels rude.
Pressing though these questions feel at this moment, none of them come close to my desire to get through the blasted checkpoint so I can start setting up for work. So I put on my best bland smile and answer “Spring.”
“Business in 2026?”
“…Being a season.”
“Any other plans?”
“No. Just business.”
Granted, being a season is rather holistic and all-encompassing as duties go. But that just meant I was being honest without having to give him an excuse to drag this out with more questions.
“And what are you carrying?”
“Just the usual.”
Janus eyeballs me - from both sides. “Which means…?”
Which means the same stuff I carry EVERY. YEAR. But that’s not good enough for him.
I sigh and heft my battered suitcase onto the desk.
This is the same luggage I’ve had since the start, but each year it shifts and evolves to be whatever is considered fresh and new in the world of carrying things. I do like that it’s currently got wheels. Not sure about the cupholder on the top.
It takes me a moment to figure out the clasps. Whatever happened to just tying things shut? Meant you could give slack when you need it, too.
The fumbling process is somehow made eons longer by Janus’s fixed stare, his lips pursed ever-so-slightly into just perceptible impatience. Silently chastising me for holding up the line, as if we aren’t outside time and as if I was the one insisting on this nonsense!
Finally I wrangle the case open and start listing off “Growth, sunshine, hope-”
With barely a glance Janus is waving for me to get moving. Cheeky sod! I’m tempted to stick it out and insist on describing everything in my bag. No, no, that would be childish - and he’ll be sure to get back at me next year.
So I reverse engineer the clasp process - I know this thing closes, it was closed a second ago and I haven’t added anything or even moved stuff around, why won’t it… Oh dear, a packet of sunshine’s leaked, I hope Janus didn’t notice. No, he’d have been sure to say something.
Ugh. I’ll just have to dilute with some extra clouds to make up the weather quota. It’ll be fine, I’m sure.
Bag closed, inspection done for another year, at last I’m trundling through the gateway into 2026. Need to find Winter and chat with them, figure out our handover procedure. And of course there’s loads of preparatory work I can be doing.
But, just for a moment, I pause and soak in the thrumming potential. Ahh. I love that fresh, new-year smell.
Prompt was “At the border between years, there’s a checkpoint. Everyone must declare what they’re carrying into the new year. Lies are detected. Contraband is confiscated. Some things aren’t allowed across. You’re in line. The officer is waiting.”