Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Jealousy 8

The sun is shining in my window. My alarm reads 6:47am. I must have fallen asleep watching Serendipity. My eyes burn. Last night was difficult. Even after I thought I was done with grief, it found its way back to me each time John, rather the character he played, fell in love with someone else. I stretch my stiff limbs, trying to loosen them. They are cold as well, but I know the shower will warm them. Slowly, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and push myself into a sitting position.

I look at the clock again. It’s 6:54 am. I’m not ready to get up and shower. Instead, I walk to the kitchen, grab a plain bagel, and load it with cream cheese. I set it on a blue dessert plate and reach for a matching glass for some orange juice. Setting it on the counter next to the refrigerator, I open the door. The orange juice is gone. My sigh sounds of disappointment although I am frustrated. “Damn it Laura.” I mutter under my breath. She’s infamous with her roommates and family for eating or drinking the last of things and not mentioning it or replacing it.

I close the door a little harder than necessary and put my glass away. I reach for a cream colored coffee mug gracefully painted with deep blue cattails. It is a popular design from the 1930s and goes beautifully with the painting large painting over the table. I fill it with hot water from the purifier on the tap and put it in the microwave for a minute. While the water heats, I grab a packet of rich hot chocolate from the crystal dish that holds them and a few marshmallows from the bag. The microwave’s beeping alerts me that my water is ready.

After mixing the ingredients, I take my bagel and hot chocolate back to my room. I set them down on the night stand, careful not to knock the picture over. I hit the eject button on my DVD and take Serendipity out. Pulling the drawer open, I replace the movie and take America’s Sweethearts out. I load it into the DVD player, climb back into bed pulling the blankets up to my chest and start to eat my bagel.

It is quarter after 7 when I hear the front door slam shut and Laura giggling. There is a loud clanking as her keys hit the floor and then the thud of her purse. I wait for the closet doors to open. They don’t and I hear the scuffling of two sets of feet. I am wise enough not to check what is happening. Laura loves being an artist and plays up to its stereotypes quite willingly. I am guessing she is coming home from a party that went into the wee hours of the morning and she has brought a guest home with her. The one thing I did not like about this apartment was the position of the bathroom. Once Laura moved in, I became thankful for the noise dulling effect it had between the rooms. I hear some more giggling and a man’s voice saying, “Which one is yours?” Laura doesn’t answer, but I hear her bedroom door close behind her. I turn the volume up on the TV. Just loud enough to drown out any possible noise, not loud enough o disrupt, and slide down under my covers, abandoning my breakfast.

At 9:30 I hear Laura’s door open again. She is walking her guest to the door. The giggling seems to have ceased and there is a carefree tone to her voice as she bids him farewell. I am restless and wish she would go back to bed so I can shower in peace. Finally, the front door closes. I wait a few minutes to give her time to use the bathroom before gathering my things for the shower and heading to the bathroom.


  1. I am wondering if the color of things is a sign of her obsessive personality or just a description. To me is seems part of her personality.

    I like to movement here in the story a glimpse of her"normal" life.

    I feel like I have really gotten to know her.

  2. I think you are tight. It may have started as a description, but has really become part of her character.

  3. Yes. A lot of blue.

    I like the flow of this. We can see where she lives, and what she has to deal with...Laura. The artist to eats/drinks everything to the last drop without mentioning it and bringing home lots of guests that leave in the morning. Is this part of Jane's loneliness? That John is "her man" and she can't have him and here is Laura, who is always having a care-free fun time.

    Poor Jane.