Green Post-its

Sharp, shrill, the alarm proclaimed the start of the day. Opening one eye, just enough to see the fine red beam pulsating from the face of my watch. The needy thing lay just to the right of me, so I urged my stiff arm to pry from the side of my body, reach out and wave a delicate hand through the dancing light, as if asking it to hold its breath.

Craning my arm back, I attach the watch to my wrist. This triggers the curtains to crawl open, occasionally shivering with discontent for being awoken so early. They unexpectedly stopping all together in protest. This permitted only a rectangle of warm light to slice over the top of the plump bed, through the empty room all the way to a grand yet worn wooden door at the other end. It was lovely, just lying, eyes closed, feeling the sun’s warmth from forehead to neck. I always turn my head right to face the sun. Danny, as if awaiting in ambush, ready to kiss my nose good morning. Get up, routinely water all those green plants, before rushing off to spend the day, leaving me to lie in the sun sunken room a while longer.

Piece by piece, my figure assembles precariously on the side of the bed. I dress, admittedly slowly, but who isn't in the morning. I adorn myself with my new, cashmere jumper, do the hair the best I can and make my way downstairs.

I glide down the stairs on my personal lift, and with a little jerk, it announces it’s concluding it’s journey. At the bottom, I was greeted with a bright green post-it note, it read something along the lines of; ‘Gone out to work, have a lovely morning.’ Before I could finish adoringly count the numerous “X”’s Danny had left me, the colour in the note faded away.

On my way to the kitchen, I glance at the cardboard boxes stacked up, drunkenly mimicking some great Greek columns, as they frame the path down to the door that leads to the outside world.

Slowly lowering myself into the arm chair, best I could, I land in it with a little thud. Sitting quietly, I notice the fussy curtains lulling open. Of course, out the blue, all on the same day, they decide to complete their tasks to varying degrees, resulting in all sorts of ridiculous rectangles and squares highlighting multiple, indistinguishable cream walls, ceiling and at least what used to be cream carpets. This hypnotic awakening of the house played an accompanying score of perpetual traffic, tediously and predictively crescendoing about now, 8am, and again at 6pm. Day in, day out…

Even though it is lovely that Maddie will finally be moving out, I believe it will get so quiet with just Danny and myself in the house. Desperate to avoid a predictable day, I lean back to look over at my table stand for some inspiration. There lay a newspaper with a damp coffee ring, a few sprawled pens and yet another florescent post-it, that seems to say ‘shopping done, all in fridge.’ The green colour gradually wilted, making the text progressively harder to read. With a full fridge, I'm sure I could try to whip up something special, a sort of final meal before. Without wasting any more time I announce to the house “Call Madeline”, while sitting up a little. This triggered a cacophony of repetitive knocks that seemed to come from all around the house. A woman’s distant voice interjected and distractedly replied “Hey Mum”. Momentarily taken aback by what I was going to say, the voice popped up once again, this time while walking from the kitchen to directly in front of my chair, asking if we were still on for tonight. I couldn't for the life of me remember what this stilly little girl was on about, but it prompted me to suggest she be home at about 6pm, to join Dad and I for dinner. This news seemed to annoy her somewhat, as she had started pacing, muttering something about “collecting earlier”, before she came back and stated “I’ll try make it for 6:30” before hanging up the phone.

Left surprised by the peculiarity of the phone call, I absentmindedly mumbled “Call my Danny”. The knocking began filling the house once again, dragging on a bit this time. I was about to call back when it stopped. A lengthy pause firmly took hold, Danny was always the first to toot out a joyful little ‘aloo’, but instead a shuffling right beside me, as if we were both sitting intimately on an imaginary sofa. Awkwardly turning to face the empty space where Danny was supposedly sitting, I announced “Hey you, you sexy..”, before I could finish, a deep voice dragged “who is this”. Startled, I had managed to sheepishly blurt out, “end call”. Left a little perplexed and drenched in embarrassment, I pondered as to why the house called the wrong person. Just as I had decided it probably be best to let someone else fix it later, a shadow of a lorry momentarily sped past, arresting all attention as it swooped from right to left, like dominoes, falling through each room.

Hauling the fridge door open, to inspect whats inside, I was taken aback to find nothing. Not nothing, but definitely not stocked up like the note had said. A shelf housed some fresh vegetables, carrots, salad, along with some ghastly, shrivelled parsnips that were’t really good for anything anymore. On the top shelf lay some tomatoes, potatoes, vegan sausage, almond milk and a large block of beef. Having the decision made for me through lack of availability was easier I suppose and seemed to save some time. Collecting the stock, salt, lemons, I left the beef to marinade before plonking a few potatoes and carrots into a pot.

If there is going to be q lovely dinner, there ought to be a lovely home. Noticing a few discarded boxes, excess, taking up unnecessary space, I thought best to recycle them. Placing the cardboard beneath my foot, I stomped down on it, but barely a dent was made. Taken aback but not too fussed, I place the boxes, one by one in my armchair. I proceeded to sit on them, falling on top, as they each stubbornly resist to fold before inevitably crunching beneath me. After taking them to the recycling bin, I contently melt into the arm chair, alone, and raised my now throbbing feet for a much needed break.

Scanning the room, there seemed to be a lot of new photo frames. I’m not entirely convinced of the frames that were so clearly made to look like wood, but I didn't want to upset anybody by throwing them away. While goggling the eyesores, I noticed a lot of them housed random people, primarily those awful, overly joyful photos of some children that come with the frame. On either side of the disused fireplace there stood bold bookshelves, that housed everything from Michael Morpurgo, whom Madeleine was definitely too old for now, to Shakespeare. In the shelf second from the top lived the family photos. Taking out a long dusty white book, I carefully flicked through. In one photo, you can see Danny holding Maddie at a farm, she was so sweet and small then. Picking out a few, I slotted them into the new frames, dusted them off.

After a short rest, I lade the table and proceed to stroll around the perimeter of the room, picking up anything that seemed out of place. When at the front door, I noticed a pen and a set of keys strewn, they must have been Maddy’s as I didn’t recognise them. Then I noticed that they lay on a pamphlet. Squinting to read the text; ‘Bay house care homes’. Heart stopping, breath fading, the world stopped.

Frozen, I didn't know what to do, why was Maddie looking at care homes, it made no sense, was she sending Danny and me off already. Motionless, staring, confused. I was so transfixed on the pamphlet, that I barely felt the trickle of sweat run down my ribs and disappearing into my blouse.

A knock on a door snapped me back. At first I announce “pick up”, before a second knock brings my attention to the actual front door where a figure’s silhouette rocks side to side. Making my way to the door as fast as I can, hauling one foot in front of the other, as I feel my blouse stick to my chest and arm. If only I could change before accepting company, but it’s not Maddie, far too early, I can’t let them wait. Uncomfortably lifting the damp sleeve I unlock the door. who do you know, it’s Maddie, draped in an oversized jumper and a long coat. Before taking a proper look at her, she walks though announcing “You have to get rid of the creepy knocking. Why not birds chirping, or a piano, any piano peace.” She sets down her coat and bags before proceeding “so, I'm hear, you ready to get started?” Surprised by her carless demeanour, I pick up the pamphlet and raise it up. Before I can protest, Maddie busily speeds around the house, fully opening all the curtains, “we’ve got to do something about these, you can’t keep living like this.” What is she on about, I have never had an issue with the curtains before. Maddie then dashed upstairs and disappears for a moment. Placing the notes I found myself still holding back in my pockets, as I make my way back to the arm chair, lowering myself into it, before collapsing with a thud. It would be nice to change that peculiar knocking to a bird song, it’s just impossible to do.

Madeline comes bounding down the stairs, carrying a few dead plants. I asked where she got them from. When she claimed they were from my room, I flatly chuckle at her confusing joke, as she disappearing round the back. She must not have heard me right, as she appeared distracted glancing everywhere. The slamming of a door, reverberates through the house, followed by a disgruntled Maddie impatiently asking “why on earth are the boxes crushed outside Mum?”. Looking at her, bewildered, I simply said they were taking up space. “Taking up space, Mum, I was renting them, they're not some old fashioned throw away cardboard box, they don't make those anymore, don't you remember.” Maddie leaves to the kitchen, muttering something odd about fines.

In all this commotion, I hadn’t thought to comment on what my little Maddie was wearing. Shouting back to let her know “Madeline, what do you think you have on, we’re about to have dinner”. Expecting to hear an apology of some sort for her tardiness, I instead hear yet another tired groan. “Mum, you left the meat in too long, its completely fallen apart.” How did I forget food, what’s wrong with me, it completely slipped my mind. I hear her take the food to the living room, so I rock off my chair, and make my way over.

I find Maddie already seated, transfixed, looking oddly worried at one of the three plates. She notices me come in, and begins to scoop out some of the larger floating chunks of meat. A little taken aback, I request we wait for Dad. Without looking up, Maddie ignored my request and states “It’s a shame about the beef.” Joining her I announce “it would have only been, what, twenty or so”, Maddie looks up, gaping. There’s really something up with that girl, she’s behaving so oddly today. Maddie leans back, shakes her head and mouths “it was 50!”

We sit in silence, both not knowing what to say next. Madeline gets up, and just strolls over to the fireplace. I take a mouthful of the beef, 50, no way, concluding that the girl doesn’t know what she is talking about, as the food dissolves on my tongue. Maddie asks in an exasperated tone “What did you do with Annie and Harry’s photos?” I look up to see her holding a silly little photo of her and Danny from one of our holidays to Spain. Excitedly answering “Oh, don’t you remember that holiday, it’s you, don’t you recognise it?” She places the photo down and asks again, this time firmly “What did you do with Annie and Harry’s photos?” staring blankly, I don’t know how to answer, I don’t know who those people are.

Feeling lost with the conversation, I slot my hands back in my pockets and cast my eye around the room. As the silence dominates the interior, the car cacophony escalates outside. Following the window, I trace it back to the wall, to the far corner, where an empty plant pot sat still, quiet, no longer there. Shifting uncomfortably, a rattle in my pocket, to my surprise I pull out a pamphlet and a set of unrecognisable keys, placing them hesitently on the table. Maddie now rather frustrated, snatches the keys and stands rather still, looks down at the pamphlet, we both read it ‘Bay house care homes’. A burst of confusion, rage surges through me, as I clock, she is about to, or already has betraying me. Looking around, I see boxes, an empty home, she is moving me out. I stand up to face her, square up to her, demand “why are you moving me to a care home?” Determined to receive a clear explanation. To my surprise, I’m not met with any hostility or anger on her part, but instead, Maddie glumly takes my hand and gestures I sit. I sit, she kneels, no matter what she says I’m not moving, I’m not leaving, this is my home. “Mum”, she meekly pleads as she looks up, “I think it’s time, those photos, they’re your grandchildren, my children, do you really not remember them?” Frozen, confused, I feel the sweat running down my ribs, soaking into my sodden blouse. She brings out a bag, from that bag a pen. As she clicks it, moving photos project from it. In one, a toddler with thick brown hair kicks a ball in a loop. Maddie clicks again, another, this time a little girl with long plats sitting by a Christmas tree, giggling endlessly. She can’t be lying, and it doesn’t sound too crazy does it. Maddie turned the device off and squeezes my hand tighter, bringing it to her lips and kisses it before explaining, “we’re moving, to Berlin.. I got offered, work in a proper lab. The kids have these new and amazing schools.” I don’t reply, I can’t reply. She seems so oddly excited about all this, and yet my heart seams to stop while my body feels a wave of cold. Maddie hesitantly adds, “it’s got a big kitchen, garden and grand sunny bedrooms.” A pause. “It’s not that far, we’ll be able to visit. We just can’t leave you alone here, I mean, look, you’re wearing your old jumper back to front.” Correcting her, I snap back “you mean you can’t leave Danny and I alone”. She sighs and sits back in her chair, nodding in agreement. “Of course, no, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have suggested it.” looking uncomfortable, she fidgets in her chair before adding, “don’t worry, I’ll turn down the position, besides, it would be such a hassle to unpack and leave all these boxes here.” As I look down, I notice something flashing in her handbag, a florescent green, and then I see, all these post-it notes, littering her bag. Taking a moment to think, I ask “These boxes aren’t for the nursing home?” Maddie shakes her head “they’re from my flat in London.” Looking at her, it seemed a shame, so depleted, I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by all this. Glancing down at the warn, back to front cashmere jumper, with sodden sleeves. “Is Dad already there?” Maddie looks up at this, staring in disbelief. Hesitantly, as if not sure what words were coming out her mouth, she peeps “yes”. “I suppose, if Danny thought moving wasn’t too bad, it can’t hurt me.” Even though not entirely clear on what or why this was all happening, I walked over to my little Madeline, took her hand and said “go get that job, just promise to visit.”

Desperate buzzing flooded in. Amidst the dimly lit room, you could make out a faint pulsating red light, jumping hurriedly from the face of my watch. With difficulty, I reach my arm out to break the red line, silencing its yelps. Looking out, a dull, small, foreign room. I turn my face the other way, to face the sun instead, but rather than be greeted with a peck, my nose pushes against a cold stale wall. Getting up, I have no idea where I am. Looking frantically around, I notice a dull note laying on the floor. Picking it up, I notice how crumpled it is. Straitening it out, I turn it over, revealing a sand and dust layer where there once lay a sticky strip. With the note, I walk over to the window in the corner to try and make out what it said. Tilting it enough towards the gray light to read ‘Gone out to work, be back soon’.