The Letter: Part 3

Beep, beep, beep. I reach over and silence my alarm without opening my eyes. I lay in the stillness of early morning, enjoying a few minutes of quiet. I refuse to open my eyes just yet, and take a few calming breaths to prep myself for my day. My breathing suddenly picks up, and I can’t catch my breath; my mouth and throat feel thick and dry. My heart bounds faster and faster.  I need to open my eyes, but they won’t open on their own.  There’s someone in the room; I can feel their eyes. After several seconds that feel like minutes, my eyes fly open searching erratically around the room for whoever I felt looking at me. There’s no one there. I see a shadow pass by my window, but by the time I get out of bed, whatever it was is gone.

               I throw on some leggings, a sports bra, and a t-shirt. The woman looking back at me in the mirror in the hall has sunken-in eyes, with a very pale complexion. I hope I’m not getting sick. It’s that or my lack of a good night’s sleep is taking a toll on me. I used to stay up late at night all the time, then get up and function a few hours later. Now I can barely make it through a run without a full night’s sleep. I round the corner into the kitchen, immediately walking up and hitting the power button on my Keurig. Pulling down the grinder, I pour some fun-flavored coffee beans in. I check the settings to make sure it’s set to fine, then push the start. A loud whirl fills the kitchen; the noise is very high-pitched but finishes quickly. When it's done, I take the lid off and take a deep breath- glorious! I scoop the ground-up nectar of the gods into a filter-lined cup and put it in the machine. I pull down my favorite stoneware mug, engraved with leaves and a secret message carved into the bottom. It says, “read a book,” and it makes me smile every time. I didn’t even realize it when I bought it. I push the mug into place and hit the brew button, then patiently wait for the liquid Gold. I pour in a little sweet cream and swirl a spoon around the edge. Coffee is most enjoyable when you can drink slowly and appreciatively.  

I look up and see a gray figure walking across my backyard. I squint my eyes & my mouth falls open slightly, as I’m struck dumb wondering why they are there. My shock ebbs; remembering the neighborhood has enough people in it that it wouldn’t be unheard of for it to be one of them. It happened too quickly for me to get a good view of them, but I got the impression it was a man. But why my yard? I have neighbors, yes, and some of them have kids who get bored, but my yard doesn’t lead anywhere any quicker. There is nothing that cutting through there would get you to. No roads. No park. My property bumps up against the woods, and you can’t access it for at least a mile up the road to the left. I used to trail-run there, but there’s no way to easily cut through the trees. I push t hose thoughts aside and focus back on my coffee, scrolling through my current e-book while I sip.