“Eric.” The manager called out from his office behind the counter. The receptionist turned towards the door. “Yes?”
“What time will the Dragon Lady be arriving?”
Eric chuckled for a moment. He’d heard about the guest they were expecting and had thought of an elderly lady with hair on her teeth.
From the corner of his eye he did see a woman walk into the lobby.
“Dragon lady? Time?” The manager asked.
A clear voice rang through the hall. “Six pm sharp. Same time I always arrive.” She had a carrying voice. Eric turned towards the counter where she stopped.
“Ma’am…” He was flustered.( To read Part 1 entirely, click here.Collapse )
Wednesday she braved the restaurant for lunch. Ignoring all Christmas decorations she managed to sit at a table in the corner. It wasn’t very crowded. Clearly most people did choose to spend the holidays at home rather than out here. Who could blame them? Maybe Gaya would have too, if she had any family.
To her surprise Paige came running out to her. “Mrs. Mason!” She yelled through the restaurant. Gaya wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or endeared.
“Paige. Don’t yell. Sit down.” She ordered.
The girl panted a bit, clearly having run out here, from wherever she had been hiding out that day. She had a small bag with her. The first time they’d met, it had carried her book. From the bag she took something.
“I wanted to give you this, Mrs. Mason.”( To read Part 2 entirely, click here.Collapse )
“Gaya hasn’t celebrated Christmas in a while, Paige. I think we need to help her remember.”
Paige handed Gaya a package. It was a small cube.
“Guys, I can’t accept this, I didn’t…”
“Please. Paige really wanted you to have this.”
“But…” They hadn’t agreed on her coming over until last night.
“She bought it for you after that lunch the two of you had.” Eric said.
With trembling hands she opened the box. It was so beautifully wrapped that she wanted to savour it. She’d had gifts over the years. One more meaningless than the other. This meant something.( To read Part 3 entirely, click here.Collapse )
It would only be one night. Donna had stated that very clearly. One wonderful, fun, and hot night. After that they were never to see each other again. Kyle had agreed.
And still, when they ran into each other weeks later, there was that same feeling. Refusing to go into any form of committed relationship they decide to meet once a week. Because however different they are, there's one way their minds, or bodies, are perfectly aligned. Once a week. Every Monday.
In her bright pink skirt suit, Tia sat on the edge of her desk and overlooked the room. All the desks in their neat formation, with their photo frames, personal items, office plants and monitors looked a bit like lifeless monsters in their own shadows. She loved it when, on Monday mornings, it all came back to life again.
Loudly she clapped her hands and the lights sprung on, only moments before the first employees would walk in.
Tia smiled. She loved this moment. The offices filling up with people and the smell off coffee, after the quiet weekend.
Although this weekend had been everything but dull and dark.
Something evil glided over Tia’s face. Hey, she wasn’t a saint. She’d never claimed to be, no matter what other people sometimes said about her.( To read the entire story, click here.Collapse )
Meredith ran through the grass on her bare feet. It tickled her sensitive skin and that made her laugh out loud. Her dark brown hair waved after her. She stumbled, fell flat on her face. She scrambled up, straightened her pretty red dress. It was her favourite.
She ran all the way to the border of the lawn. It was a miracle. Normally poppies wouldn’t grow in captivity, but in the back of Meredith’s garden there were hundreds, thousands of them.
The little girl sat down in front of them. “Story?” She begged them.
The poppies seemed to cheer her. And the one, a bit in the middle of the strip, it was orange more than red, bowed her head. “Let me tell you the story of the Poppy Princess.” She said, in a grave voice.
She kept her eyes closed just a little longer. A few minutes, she decided. She didn’t want to open them and see she was in her own bed. Her own room, in the shabby apartment she shared with two others. She did listen though. No way to drown out the sound. The normal sounds weren’t there. The girls, they were after all both at least fifteen years younger, were pretty noisy in general. Not a sound today. No music, no chatter.
Slowly it dawned on Julie. She’d not fallen asleep in her own bed that night.
“Morning, Love? Coffee?” Broke her musings.
Her eyes flew open. Beside the bed was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. In his hands two large coffee cups. Other than that, fully naked.
( To read the rest of week 5/6 click hereCollapse )
Mechanically she dusted the room. The window sills, the lamps, the dresser. She halted and looked at the wooden box on the dresser. She had dusted over it every week for ages, without giving it any thought. Not today. She remembered her father giving it to her. “It contains something very special.” He’d said. Was that really fifteen years ago? Only weeks before he’d passed. She’d never opened it, of course. As long as she didn’t know, it would remain special. Maybe now was a good a moment as any though. Her fingers unsnapped the lock and took hold of the lid.
The ringing of the phone startled her. Quickly she locked the box again. What had she been thinking?
( To read the rest of week 4 click here.Collapse )