Routine

She has the same routine every morning,

She wakes up, sits on the edge of her bed and looks out the window to see what the weather is like. She believes she can always judge how a day is going to go by what colour the sky is. Today it is a pale grey. She decides to be optimistic and call it silver, that would mean today would be okay.

She puts on her slippers and her dressing gown and shuffles towards the door. It occurred to her, as it does every morning, that there is really no need to close her door at night as there is nobody else in the house.

She shuffles to the kitchen and presses the switch on the kettle, when nothing happens she realises she hasn't turned it on at the wall. This is another thing she does every morning.

She makes herself a cup of tea, she dips the teabag three times for luck before she squeezes it with her spoon. She pays special attention to the way the tea flavoring spreads through the water, like smoke.

While she is waiting for the tea to cool down, she goes into the cupboard and gets a bottle of cat milk, it is only when she looks into that corner of the kitchen she remembers that Charlie isn't there anymore.  She shakes it from her mind and goes back to her cup of tea. She holds it by the handle and shuffles through to the living room, her hands are shaking dripping tea down her pink fuzzy dressing gown. She has flashbacks of when her daughter bought it for her. That was the winter her heater broke and it took two weeks for the council to send someone round to fix it.

The heater is fixed now, but she still likes to wear it because it is special to her.

She sits down, slowly, and puts the cup of tea on the table next to her. The remote is on the left arm of the chair where she left it. She turns on the TV and waits, half an hour until her show.

She sits through a hospital drama, in it a young girl is lying on a hospital bed and the doctors look at each other and try to look like this is second nature to them now. “This is the third overdose we've had this week, I swear this city is hopeless.” The senior doctor says as he leaves the room to see the girl’s mother sat outside. He is only able to get out the words “I’m sorry” before she waves her hand shushing him and thanks him. The mother keeps her composure as she walks outside to get some air. She goes and finds a quiet spot behind some bins and bashes her head against the wall screaming.

It suddenly occurs to our protagonist that this is very heavy viewing for a Sunday morning. She checks the clock and it's only 15 minutes until her show starts and another 20 until the home helper turns up to make her breakfast.

She patiently sits through adverts for central heating, life insurance, drug awareness and Tetley tea. Every time an advertisement finishes she glances back at the clock checking how long it is until her show is on.

She edges forward on her seat as the opening tune comes on and a young brunette smiles at the camera. “Good morning! Its Ava Christen here with the weather.  As I’m sure you've all noticed we have a lovely silver sky today. With any luck the showers of the past few days have left and it’s not much longer until we have some nice sunshine! I think we’ll all be happy once the showers are gone and we can enjoy the sun!”

She hears the door burst open and is frightened for a moment before she remembers the home helper is expected around this time. The home helper bursts into the door with a shrill “helloooo Siobhan, how are we this morning?”

“I’m good; I made myself a cup of tea this morning.”

“Siobhan! Now you know fine well you’re not supposed to use the kettle by yourself! You should have waited for me”

“I wanted to have a cup of tea for when my TV show came on, look, that’s my daughter you know, she is a news presenter.”

The home helper looks at the TV and furrows her brow

“Siobhan, the TV isn't on”

“Yes it is! Can you not see the news is on? That girl with the brown hair, Ava Christen, that’s my daughter. She’s a news presenter”

“Siobhan, your daughter isn't on the TV. The TV isn't even turned on. Do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Your daughter died of a drug overdose 5 years ago. Your memory hasn't been so good since that day because you gave yourself a head injury outside the hospital. Age hasn't helped mind you. Your tea must be cold do you want another?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? You want breakfast? What do you want for breakfa-“

“No.”

The home helper stands up and goes into the kitchen, Siobhan can hear the clanking of plates. She hates it when people don’t listen to her. She runs her hands up her arms to feel the fabric of the dressing gown and she holds herself as if she wants to keep the memory locked inside with her.

The home helper brings in a plate of scrambled egg and tries to make light conversation, but Siobhan ignores her and doesn't take her eyes off of the blank TV screen. Eventually the home helper gives up and leaves sighing heavily.

Siobhan doesn't eat the eggs, in fact she doesn't do anything that day. She doesn't even leave the chair. She just sits watching the blank screen all day.

When it starts to get dark she heads up to bed, she changes her night gown and shuffles to the door, she thinks to herself she needs her sleep tonight so she is going to shut the door to stop her cat Charlie from coming in and waking her up licking her face.

She slowly sets herself down in the bed and gets herself as comfortable as possible under the covers. She realises how hungry she is and wonders why the home helper didn't make her breakfast. Mid concern she falls asleep.

She has the same routine every morning,

She wakes up, sits on the edge of her bed and looks out the window to see what the weather is like.