Tabula Rasa

They had arrived at the party shortly after one another, so he had watched the host lift the fine coat off the Councillor’s shoulders and place it on a hook near the door. The fabric gleamed subtly in the light, like the coat of thoroughbred racehorse. It looked substantial; heavy. The Councillor glided into the party, and the host turned to Andrei, murmuring welcomes and lifting his coat from his shoulders. Andrei’s coat had no sheen; no substance. The host folded it over the arm of a chair where it draped pathetically. He proceeded into the stifling room where the department staff were talking and sipping cloying mulled wine. Perspiration pricked Andrei's brow as he transitioned from the cold night air, and he watched as party members rushed to greet the Councillor and shake his great paw. Andrei joined the throng of sycophants. “…Certainly, the Bureau of Essential Non-Essentials is pioneering the concept of mandatory compliance in our optional regulations overhaul…” the man orated to his acolytes. Tension built within Andrei. “…Indeed, the Department of Redundancy Department has approved the penultimate preliminary final draft of the infinite sustainability loop initiative…” They nodded approvingly of his accolades; Andrei’s knuckles whitened. “…the Committee for the Streamlining of Complexity has just expanded its mandate to include the minimisation of maximalised minimals…” Andrei’s body quivered. “Councillor,” he nearly shouted, cutting the man off abruptly. The bulging eyes of the neophytes swivelled towards him in disgust. “Councillor,” he said in a near whisper this time, sweat trickling down his neck. The Councillor gazed down at him, “Yes, Andrew?” “Andrei,” he half-choked. The Councillor nodded. “Councillor, I noticed your very fine coat when we came in. Tell me, where did you get it from?” A glimmer of annoyance flushed across his warm face, and his expression imperceptibly tightened. The crowd looked on, feeling sick with indignation at Andrei’s interruption. “My coat? J. D. Callaghers.” He spat out at Andrei like a piece of gristle, and turned back to his disciples. “It must have cost quite a bit,” Andrei retched. The Councillor glanced at him with a cold eye but did not engage, resuming his homily, ”…our cross-functional task force on unilateral multilateralism is revolutionising the paradigm of synchronised desynchronisation…” Andrei was squeezed from the ranks as they closed in to catch the Councillor's words. Lightheaded and clammy he staggered to the hallway for some air, vision foggy. He closed his eyes and breathed as deeply as his iron bound chest would allow. His eyes opened to the gentle sheen of the Councillor's coat. Andrei moved across to it and touched a cuff. The fabric was soft to his touch, almost creamy, and the blood drained from Andrei's face. He lifted the coat and donned it, feeling it's beautiful weight engulf his meagre frame. Cold night air stung the sweat on Andrei's brow as he stepped out the front door.