Never Changing

“Next!” the desk-worker called. That referring to number three seventy seven. The sweat-wrinkled slip in my own hand was three eighty nine. And I'd been here... nevermind. I didn't want to look at the time. I was stuck here until it was all handled. No point in stewing.

A great many things had changed during the Upheaval. Mutations, magic, alternate dimensions, tasty food that was actually good for you. Things people had never really dreamt of. One thing that didn't change? Bureaucracy.

Traveling to another dimension? Paperwork. Registering a new mutation you hadn't had yesterday? Paperwork. Learning to cast spells to summon servants from the netherworld? Paperwork and taxes. Yeah, those hadn't really changed much, either.

So here I was, in a crowded waiting room, surrounded by folks of all sorts. I was here for the third day in a row trying to register my new business. It wouldn't be such a big deal if my employees weren't mostly liberated djinn. Their legal status was still in flux these days, pending the big political football that was the Magical Beings amendment.

In the meantime? Fifty million forms to fill out and geases to lay on everyone involved just to be sure. Not to mention the five thousand bucks plus sorcerer fees for the privilege. I just hoped it was all worth it, in the end. Novel business ideas were hard to come by even in this new world of ours.

But I was betting a lot on having a killer one.