• A golden ray of sun shone through the small narrow window, on an old cream wall, attached to the old creaking floor that ran under my feet.
    I inhaled a lung full of the dust that lightly covered the chair that stood next to the fireplace which hadn’t been used in years.
    The ray of sun hit the other wall, bouncing off the gigantic mirror and landing on the painting of an elderly woman covered in silk and flowers - bright yellow roses with a tint of green. Yellow roses mean ‘health’ and ‘good living’, but judging from the rows of wrinkles and the absence of teeth, health and good living seemed far away.
    I turned my gaze to the tattered dress peaking from the cupboard. Moving the door slightly to the side, I could view the whole thing; it was the dress in the painting. The bright red silk that once lived, was now nothing but a faded rag with holes.
    I shook my head in sorrow, and closed the cupboard.
    “Such a waste.” I muttered.
    With one final look at the sunray which was lighting up the beautiful painting, I walked from my great-grandmothers room.

    •-•-•-•-•-•


    It’s been almost a year since she died. It still shocks me how it happened; unexpected and sudden, but then again all deaths are like that. Redundant.
    It was a long drive home that day, no loud music blaring from the car speakers like an average Sunday afternoon after work.
    My phone rang suddenly; the sound of classical music filled my ears. I searched through my bag like a kid searching for a cookie. I managed to get my phone out, only to let it fall under the chair. I swore loudly. Then it stopped, I sighed in frustration and continued home.

    When I got home, I checked who called. ‘Mother’ flashed on the screen, and just like that, I was happy I didn’t pick up. Unfortunately I was nice enough to call back. I slowly took my time making some coffee, and drank it. Then I walked to the phone. Picking it up, I dialled the number, wishing she was out.
    “Oh darling!” came that posh voice.
    “Mum…” I tried to sound happy.
    “Oh darling, where in the world have you been? I tried calling you!”
    My lip twitched slightly. “I was driving, Mum.”
    “Pish posh!” she giggled. Sometimes I swear she’s a little school girl.
    “Anyway, I called to tell you wonderful news!”
    I perked up. “Your moving to somewhere without any phones?”
    “No, no.”
    I sighed.
    “Remember that handsome waiter at that fancy restaurant we went to last week?”
    “Oh my god Mum! Don’t tell me you’re dating that poor boy!” I was still waiting for her to say she was moving.
    She continued giggling.
    “He’s got the cutest as-“
    “NO! Mum, really. I don’t need to know.” I rubbed my head. This woman is going to be the death of me.
    “Well, I better be off. Mwah!”
    She hung up.
    I put the phone down and grunted. Everything was silent again, just like a crowd before the winning goal, but Mother’s already won.

    Later that night I was sitting on my bed enjoying one of my books. The sound of the ticks of the clock dripped on and on, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I closed my book in frustration and turned on the TV. Cartoons. News. Game shows. Nothing. I turned it off. A minute felt like an eternity as I sat in my bed, staring aimlessly at the blank TV screen. Some hours passed and the droning ticks and blank screens lingered. I finally fell asleep.

    A Monday barrelled through my window and landed on my face, I moaned in anger and rolled over. Finally after much arguing, I kicked off my blanket and fell out of bed. Literally. Pain shot through my face as I laughed at my stupidity. Red blinking lights filled my eyes. “Eight o’clock…shame.” I let my head flop back onto the ground as I rolled over and stared at my very badly painted ceiling.
    “When the hell did that happen?” I asked no one as I squinted my eyes at the paint peeling off, and the discolour of the roof underneath.
    I finally decided to stop asking questions about my ceiling and got dressed. I picked up a pair of faded black jeans with little stars pasted at the hem; with a light blue polo shirt with a picture of a bear on the collar. I judged myself in the mirror and decided this isn’t going to get any better. After scrunching my long blond hair into a pony tail, I grabbed my keys and walked out, only to walk in a second later to get my shoes.
    “God, I love Mondays!” I yelled in a sarcastic tone, as I threw my door shut.