This Old House

Wind creaked against the windows, it wasn’t a storm, just a windy day, enough cloud gathered outside to make it gloomy. Alva looked over at the empty chair and sighed, it was going to take some getting use to, no one else to blame noises on. She got up to make herself a tea, out of habit she kept an eye on the floor ahead of her, she use to have to do that as not to trip on her way out to the kitchen. Even the kitchen counter seemed bare now, with no one to supervise her every motion, or to investigate the goings on outside through the window with.

She put the kettle on the stove and stared out the window, it had been almost 18 years since she had made a tea by herself, read by herself, did laundry by herself, had a bath by herself or really had done anything in this old house by herself, it was going to take some getting use to, friends are never easy to lose.

The tea kettle sang to let her know that it was ready, when Alva opened the fridge door to get the milk and it sank in even more, so she moved as quickly as she could, so as to put it back before the fridge door closed again.

Taking her tea back to her chair, she sipped at it, but it didn’t give her the same enjoyment it once did, it didn’t warm her the way it usually does. Resting her hand on her lap didn’t fill the void either, tears came to her eyes as she realized she was just going to have to accept that this old house was just not going to the same anymore.

# Do not mention