Yesterday, his life was simple.
For ages, his day started the same. For centuries, his day ended the same. He got the list and he went to work. After hundreds of years, he had lost the ability to feel. Everybody was born, lived their life, however long they were supposed to, and then they died. It was not rocket science.
Feeling ready to burst out of his skin, Daimhin shoved the list across the wide wooden desk and took an agitated look around the room. "A kid!" He exclaimed.
His manager looked back at him, where he was seated at the top end of the long table. The large windows behind him, with a view of endless clouds, silhouetted him, turning his manager into a dark looming shadow. Daimhin could not see his expression, but he heard from his tone that he was amused. "Too good for you, Daimhin?"
" I have never had to do this before. A baby? Really?"
Daimhin heard Violet smirk, where she sat next to him. He swivelled the leather chair and faced her. "What?" He was feeling tense. He was not sure if he would be able to go out today and to collect a baby. A baby, for crying out loud. A baby who has not yet had the chance to live a full life. Did somebody higher up the chain of command make a mistake of sending this soul back to earth, and now they had to 'pull the product' because of some production error.
Daimhin felt as if the walls were closing in on him.
The other guardians stood up from their chairs and then in groups of two or three's they left the room. Each one of them taking their own list with them.
Violet touched him lightly on his arm.
" What?"
" No need to be rude to me, Daimhin. We have all had to collect babies from time to time."
His edginess increased tenfold, driving him to his feet. He expected this morning's meeting to be the same as every other morning - get his list and do his job. A job he never chose to do but had no choice in doing, because of the choices he made a long time ago when he was also one of the living.
His manager looked across the table at Daimhin. Daimhin saw a glint of light in his eyes - amusement mixed with boredom. Daimhin saw a flash of a smirk on his darkly shadowed face.
Daimhin had no choice. He leaned across the table and pulled the list, printed on parchment paper, names written with a fountain pen in an elaborate cursive, across the glossy surface.