#k-harding

“Fear is more contagious than the plague and communicates itself in an instant.” Were the words written on the blurb of the book at the top of the pile she had selected to join her on this journey. Everything was still in as many boxes as she had managed to fit in the car three days ago. During her younger years, she used to stay in the library until late at night like a tortoise retracting its head into the shell. Her hands caressed the spines of books as though they were visas in her passport. She yearned for what was in those books – a freedom to go anywhere she pleased without feeling lost. But now that she had finally arrived to a foreign land, there seemed to be no map that could possible guide her.      

The brunette was ready to call it a day as she approached the white lab coat that rested on the chair and took out of its pockets the medical samples she had managed to take from the hospital before placing them on the table. Those couldn’t be her dinner – she had decided to stop taking them, to finally come face to face with the reality that came to life in that town more than anywhere else. But maybe tonight she’d need at least one of those to treat insomnia. Back in Chicago, she rarely had time to waste with deadly vises after her daily commitments. Or at least that was until she began returning to a place she no longer found it in herself to call it home because her fiancé only existed in the pictures of the living room’s frames. But wine had become one of her best friends, something that time from time again proved to never let her down. And the only thing she had picked up on her way back home after paying Nicky a visit, almost forgetting that her fridge was empty. All she could do now was play the waiting game and see if any of those days the only face she needed to see again decided to show up. So after ordering some pizza over the phone, she poured a glass that nestled safely in her hands and leaned against the counter. 

Being alone was no good for Callie Winthrop. It gave her eyes time to focus, her brain time to form questions that should remain unanswered and dig up memories that should remain buried. Even though deep down she was still a curious creature, a strange combination of proud and insecure, the thought of everything made her less of the woman who had once had an unending zest for life, an energy that rose up to greet the world in whatever challenge it threw at her. It was no wonder why her life revolved around so many unsolved issues. And she could sit there with a pen in hand and express those confessions in that little diary of hers, but it never answered her back. But what if she did share it with someone? What if she were to text her therapist right there and explain how no medicine could put to sleep the thoughts that were only louder in that city? She had learned her lesson and knew only depending on herself was for the best, but she could recall vividly how untethered it made her feel to express her remorses and to have someone right there who understood her and not be judged for it. 

The sound of the doorbell interrupted her deep session of reminiscence. She looked down at the little golden watch wrapped around her wrist that had been a birthday present - did they have their own units of time? or maybe a different timezone and her clock was behind. How could an hour translate to five minutes? Did they hire witches to defy time and space in their kitchens? Were the boxes delivered by fairies? Her vibrant mind made up more and more possible explanations as she put the glass down and searched for the keys. “Coming!” She called as she neared the door but she spent at least a minute trying to remember and see which of those keys was the right one. A part of her was glad that place had a key for each door and window. It made her feel safer. But the other part of her knew she’d have to paint them with different colours or something soon or she’d be late for work every single morning. Before opening the door, she made sure the umbrella that stood behind it was still there. She didn’t know how much she’d be able to use it in an act of self defence but that was yet another thing that made her feel safer. “Hey, sorry to have kept you waiting.” She apologised as she held the door open with the back of her dark ankle boots and rifled through her wallet. “Do you happen to have change for a twenty bill?” She asked, not meeting the other person with her eyes yet.