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Wednesday, 5 September 2018


~Mrs Connor at the top
I move smoothly, gliding against the soft wooden floor in my living room as I dance to a song playing from my home theatre. I am currently cleaning out my apartment. I couldn't remember the last time I cleaned and dust was beginning to settle everywhere and since I didn't have anything to do till 12 when I leave for my appointment I decided to do a little clean up.
I started from the left wing of my house which had the rooms; my room and two guest bedrooms. Probably wondering why I have two guest bedrooms but my parents always insists on sleeping in different rooms when they come to visit. I never really understood their reasons but I let it go.
I am presently cleaning the living room having finished with the kitchen area when my doorbell rings. 'Probably the pizza guy' I think to myself. You're wondering who eats pizza on a Saturday morning; Me!
I switch off the vacuum cleaner I am using and go to get the door. I look through the peephole to confirm if it is really the pizza delivery guy. I watch too many crime movies for my own good. One of the downsides of living alone and being alone.
I open the door collecting my pizza, I pay for it and tip the guy because they are the most reliable set of people when it comes to pizza delivery. They deliver pizza any day, anytime.
I drop it on the kitchen counter and make my way to the living room to finish cleaning which I am almost done with. I then put away my cleaning equipments till when next I clean; maybe next month. I'm not dirty but I am always tired and besides I live alone and barely have people over except if you consider my parents as 'people'.
I eat my pizza quietly and wash it down with juice and then go to prepare for my little outing. About an hour later I am on the road currently driving to go see my therapist. I already put down notes on some of the things I wanted to discuss with her so I wouldn't forget.
By the time I get there it is 1:40 in the afternoon and the sun is really high making the extremely cold air conditioner in my car feel like it is blowing cool air. I drive up the stony pathway to the entrance of her house park my car and get out. She is already waiting for me at the door.
"Lisa dear how are you? Hope the drive here wasn't too stressful?" She asks me smiling warmly.
"Mrs Connor you worry too much. I've driven here countless number of times I'm used to it. And I'm good how are you?" I reply her with a smile of my own. She is in her early fifties and a widow. Her husband died 10 years after their marriage and she didn't remarry. She has a son who is married with twins but he lives in Canada so she doesn't get to see him all the time. I always feel sorry for her but she tells me not to saying she's quite happy and okay with whatever life throw at her.
"I'm good dear, do come in." She says holding the door and stepping aside for me to enter then shut the door behind her. I make my way over to the living room knowing the house so well. Her house has a homey feel to it. She is British so she has countless old era paintings hung on the walls in various rooms in her house. I never got tired of staring at them they looked new to me every time. I love paintings but couldn't paint myself.
"Would you like some coffee?" She asks me from the kitchen.
"Yes, thank you" I tell her. She doesn't bother asking if it is black or with cream. She knows my preference which makes me smile.
She shows up a while later setting the tray she is carrying on the table pouring hot coffee into two cups handing one to me and keeping one for herself also passing me milk and sugar. She takes her coffee black. I hate black coffee it is just too bitter. I am a lover of sweet things.

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