I sit up and stretch my limbs, feeling the slight twinge in my elbow that's become so familiar over the years. Yawning a second time, I finally stand up and hobble downstairs.
"Good morning," my butler, Gordon, says to me as I reach the bottom ground floor. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
"Rhmm," I grumble. I don't mean to be so short, but I'm never fully awake before breakfast. Gordon leads the way into the dining room where breakfast is waiting for me. It's a simple meal of dry cereal, along with a few prescription pills for chronic ailments on the side. I'd gotten a taste for a crunchy breakfast years ago before I retired, and eating it now reminds me of my younger days.
It was in my younger days when I had considered a different path in life, one with time for romance. I let my mind drift back to that day in the park: that day when I met him. I had gone to the park for a run, as I had many times before and would many times after. I rounded a bend and there he was: the most magnificent creature I had ever laid eyes on.
He was tall and muscular with jet black hair and dark brown eyes. As he got close to me, the wind shifted and I got a whiff of his natural musk, and it was intoxicating. I caught his attention (as a petite blonde, I tend to stand out, even now), and he slowed down. Our eyes locked and it felt like I was looking into his soul, just as he was into mine. In a moment, I was ready to give up everything and run away with him. And as silly as it may seem, I could tell he would do the same thing for me. But then reality came crashing in: I couldn't run off. Too many people relied on me. As heartbreaking as it was, I knew that it could never be. He seemed to understand and he nodded, his eyes glistening with moisture. We both started our runs again, this time away from one another. After that, I changed my route to avoid running into him, but every now and again, the wind would blow just right and I would smell him.
I shake myself out of my fantasy and back to the present. I finish my breakfast and wander into the den. Just as I get comfortable on the couch, Elizabeth, my driver walks in.
"Time for your doctor's appointment," she says, in a tone that feels a bit too enthusiastic. I sigh and get up, stretching once more. Elizabeth helps me with my coat and leads the way to the car.
Thankfully, this is just an annual exam and not anything serious. Other than some more medication for my elbow, I'm sent away with a clean bill of health.
After getting home, I decide to take a nap—don't judge me! I'm old and retired and I can use my time any way I like. I drift off to sleep and dream of frolicking in the woods behind my estate. Gordon and Elizabeth are there, too, but instead of being my servants, they're my parents. Suddenly, I'm out of the woods and I'm a child, playing with my brothers and sisters at the orphanage. My favorite brother (whose name I've since forgotten), is taken away to be adopted. I call after him to not leave me, but no sound comes out of my mouth. I try to shout louder and louder and—
I wake up with a start, jumping out of bed and standing before realizing what was happening. I shake my head, the dream fading from my mind and my memory. I stretch again and wander downstairs.
I find Gordon and tell him that I'm ready for my afternoon constitutional. While I could go alone, I enjoy Gordon's company. And, if I'm being honest, I'm old enough that if I were to take a spill, it could be serious, so bringing him with me is just prudent.
The sunshine feels good on my face and I smile. I may not be able to run anymore, but I'm still invigorated by a walk around the estate grounds. I pause a few times to smell the flowers—the tulips in particular—before completing a loop around the property and returning to the house.
Back inside, I hydrate and return to the den. Gordon offers to help me, but I brush him off. I may be an old lady, but I hate being treated like one. I doze on the couch, though I don't really fall asleep.
I snap out of my daze to the aroma of my dinner. From the smell of it, I'd say it's lamb and rice, with a beef reduction, and a side of carrots. I follow my nose into the dining room and discover that I am, as usual, correct. I eat quickly, not wanting a moment to pass by without the delicious food in my mouth.
"Hic!" I hiccup. I hate when this happens! But my chef is so talented that dinner usually ends with me hiccupping. It's more embarrassing than anything else, but I know they'll pass soon, so I try not to think about it.
With my belly full, I climb the stairs and curl up in bed. As I feel sleep creep up on me, I can't help but feel happy with my life and content with how things turned out.
"What do you think she dreams about?" I hear Elizabeth ask, just as I'm on the edge of sleep.
"I don't know," Gordon replies, "whatever's on her mind, I guess. She's a pretty spoiled dog, so maybe she's going on a walk?"
"I hope she's dreaming about us," Elizabeth says as I cross over into unconsciousness. "I hope she's happy that we rescued her and made this her forever home."
I thought the point of view was cute. At first I objected to the narrative in the present tense because that is usually pretty contrived, until partway through, I realized the POV character was a dog. Of course everything is in present tense for a dog. There is no conflict (even counting the lost love), but this is a gradual revelation story. The gradual unveiling of the mystery provide a dollop of suspense. Good job.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Dad. I knew there was no conflict, but I felt its omission was acceptable under the circumstances.
ReplyDeleteMy first draft was written in the more traditional past-tense, but I decided to change it as I was editing it. I'm glad you see why.
ReplyDeleteGood job I enjoyed it.
I'm glad you liked it!
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