Looking at Doors

She didn’t have any friends at work. That was how she wanted it. Work friends just suck the life out of you. In the larger scheme of things, she didn’t have many friends at all. All of the friends in her life were at arm’s length. She would send them Christmas and Birthday cards. Sometimes she’d mail a letter or more likely just a note card with a few lines. They were all people she had met before the disillusionment with humanity. They remembered her as studious and serious, a friend who had a quiet sense of humor, a sympathetic ear, and a generous soul. They didn’t really know her now. She had always been on the periphery. Since college, she feigned prior commitments and a busy schedule when turning down invitations for get-togethers and mini reunions. She hadn’t seen any of her friends except in photographs for the last 10 years. The idea that someone had decided to disrupt the quiet and sameness of her life with a bequest of a large amount of money was surprising. No, she shook her head; it wasn’t just surprising it was discombobulating. All of this conjecture and uncertainty was unsettling. She liked quiet and calm and an assurance that things would be the same. Perhaps that was why she didn’t want interactions with the stupid people. They were unpredictable. There was chaos trailing after them like toilet paper stuck to a shoe. Her memories of her college friends were unchanging. They were frozen in time. They would always be there, right where she had put them.

Mister suddenly jumped onto her lap. He demanded her attention then was gone. He knew that he needed to disrupt her train of thought and to bring her back to the here and now. It always amazed her that Mister could sense when her mood changed or when her thoughts became anxious. It was his mission to remind her of what was important. And what was most important was an afternoon nap. She dreamed that it was summer. She was surrounded by tall grasses that rose up above her head. The only sounds were the chirp of distant birds and the soft rustling of the dry stems of the grass. Everywhere was green and brown leaves with a vibrant blue sky. She stood still and felt the world move in its orbit. It was a very good dream. It was the kind of dream that makes you sad to wake up. So it was with a melancholy sigh that she rolled over and opened her eyes. The room was quiet but she knew it was late afternoon. There was light seeping around the window shade. It was a cold sunny day.

Within moments of sitting up Mister silently leapt onto the bed. He gingerly stepped across the comforter to stand on her legs. Staring into her eyes with a laser focus he communicated his desire for food. As soon as she determined to get up, Mister was gone. There was no mystery. She knew he would be patiently seated in front of his bowl in his perfect imitation of Bastet. Blinking slowly, not unlike her cat, she moved quietly. She would spend the rest of the day in languid leisure. The decisions were not too taxing. Should she watch the latest episodes of Dr. Who or watch the Lord of the Rings Trilogy again? Carrying her mug of hot cocoa to the sofa, her decision was made. She enjoyed the Harry Potter books and would try to watch at least one of the movies. She had tried to get through the Prisoner of Azkaban last month but there were too many annoying characters. This time she decided that The Deathly Hallows Part 2 might be easier since at least some of the stupid people would get their just desserts. Her luck wouldn’t hold. Before the opening credits had finished, there was the sound of pounding on her door. She frowned. Mister had appeared on the coffee table, his ears flattened against his head and his pupils dilated. He looked more than angry. He looked ready to fight. She observed her cat and considered what he was telling her. He was nearly always right when it came to predicting trouble. He was telling her that the person or persons at the door would not improve her day. In fact, his opinion was that answering the door would result in peril. Picking up the phone she logged into the doorbell camera.

So things are getting interesting in “An Introvert’s Story”. Don’t we all like a lazy Saturday where we can indulge in a nice cat nap on a cold winter day?

25 thoughts on “Looking at Doors

  1. cats and dogs have instincts I trust, more than I trust people. now stop leaving me hanging! though i like dreaming up who could be calling! a lovely read, you are an amazing story teller!


  2. lazy days especially in the winter, or under a tree in the shade of summer sun, but now I am waiting for who is calling?


  3. Wow, a nice wind-up, Muri! Who’s pounding on the door? Who needs college friends when you have NetFlix and a cat like Mister? He seems almost dog-like… empathic, intuitive about Lu and others. If Mister says don’t answer the door, she shouldn’t. He knows what he’s talking about. 🙂


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