Thank you very much

“Thanks a lot.” Arthur said. His coworker – Anne – gave him his wedding ring back. She was stood in the snow with red cheeks and a camera between her hands. The wife of Arthur – Viola – had seen the whole ordeal from their house’s windows. Arthur did say thanks – but he didn’t try to get eye contact with Anne – and he didn’t care to talk about work with her. He just headed home – following his footprints that had plowed through the snow. He opened the door. Viola was right there – with a red face. “What is your coworker doing out in the snow – with your ring?” She asked. Arthur didn’t have any answers to the question – for it was quite a curious situation. Anne had stolen his ring – when she had stalked him going to the movie theatre with his wife. He thought the whole situation to be comedic – but he didn’t laugh – instead he said. “She was out looking at birds.” Viola huffed a laugh that emptied her lungs. “Ha.” She then breathed in. Fortunately – she did – otherwise she’d be dead soon enough. Arthur would become a widower – a thing he surely wouldn’t enjoy. “Was she looking at our owls?” Viola asked and pointed at the owl-mugs. “She sure was.” Arthur said. “What’s the matter with her?” Viola asked. “She must be bored.” Arthur said – looking out the window. There was no red wool hat to see – so Anne must’ve turned home. Either that – or she could’ve very well fainted in the snow. Arthur didn’t care to think of that possibility – and why would he? His wife was bloody miffed. There was no time for intellectual ‘what ifs’. “I’m sure she’ll leave us be.” Arthur said. “If I crack her wings – she might.” Viola said. “There’ll be no need of brute strength.” Arthur said. “Words are enough to solve a squabble.” He said with a smile. Viola didn’t smile. She was sure – that Anne was still out there – and sure she was – just not outside their window. Closing the curtains gave Viola some comfort. “You have to quit your job.” Viola said. “No need.” Arthur said. “If I quit the job – who’ll support us?” He asked. Viola started screaming. “Schizophrenia.” Arthur understood what she meant. It wasn’t her fault that she went in and out of jobs – surely it was her illness at play. “Maybe I’ll get the police involved.” Arthur said. “The pigs don’t care about stalkers – don’t you know?” Viola asked. “Especially female stalkers.” She said. “Well – I have to do something.” Arthur said. “You sure do.” Viola said. “I’ll talk with her tomorrow.” He said and put on his dented gold ring.

The next morning – Arthur went to work. He plowed the snow with his feet – an activity he didn’t enjoy – but it was nonetheless a necessary effort to get to his workplace. Anne was there – sitting at the break-table. Arthur’s eyes were blue. Viola’s were brown. Anne’s were blue. They had often argued about it – Arthur and Viola. Whether their child would have blue or brown eyes. Arthur hoped for blue eyes – but Viola was certain that the dominant colour would prevail. It was a debate of hope versus science – a debate destined to fail. There Anne was – chugging a cup of cocoa. Her freckles were many. Had she no shame? – Arthur thought. “About yesterday.” He said. “Yes.” Anne said and blew at the hot cocoa-top. “I don’t think you’re happily married.” Anne said. “How do you know that?” Arthur said. She looked around – desperately looking for another coworker. “Well – we’ve all heard you complaining about the wife.” Anne said. “We could be well off.” She said and looked up at Arthur. He had his hands planted on the table – leaning over it. “I’m married.” He said. “Well – a divorce is a simple process – isn’t it?” Anne said. “It sure is.” Arthur said and sighed as if he was about to barf. “I have blue eyes.” Anne said. “Your wife doesn’t.” She said. “I know more about you than your wife does.” Anne said. “Do you now? What’s my birthday?” He asked. “The 25^th of November.” She said. Arthur was baffled – considering Viola could never remember his birthday. He even remembers getting his birthday gift on the same day as Christmas. “You’re a stalker.” He said. “An admirer.” Anne said. “Well – take your admiration somewhere else.” Arthur said. “Don’t be like that.” Anne said. “My admiration is well founded.” She said and started sipping her cocoa. “I’m 27 years old.” Arthur said. “You’re 22.” He said and slipped away into his realm of thoughts. Why do I hesitate? It’s an easy decision. Be rid of the bird – and her darn schizophrenia. Anne’s the future. My future wife – my future everything. Arthur went over to the drawers. He grabbed himself a mug. In it – he dropped cocoa powder and boiling hot water. “Why did you steal my ring?” Arthur asked. “Well – I wanted to make the decision easy. You’re mine.” Anne said. Arthur’s heart stopped for a second. It felt like a bullet had hit him. One that had led him to pump adrenaline – like an animal in flight. She smiled while looking at him. What a nightmare – Arthur thought. He didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation till later in the day. “Thanks for the cocoa.” Arthur said. Anne surely was a stalker – but at least she also was kind enough to bring cocoa to the office for everyone to enjoy. Arthur went home. He thought about various scenarios – none of them any good. She’s going to dissect us – no she’ll dissect my poor wife while I’m watching. Arthur thought. It seemed like a bit of a stretch of his imagination from reality – but as far as Arthur was concerned – anything could happen. He made sure the door was always locked – checking it at least thrice – before going to bed. “Are you schizophrenic too?” Viola asked. “Paranoid.” Arthur said. He couldn’t get the image of Anne looking at their window out of his head. He opened the curtains – but no one was there – just traffic.