The alarm -- fuck. The alarm -- how
long has it been ringing?
She rolls over, blindly fumbling in
the direction of the offensive sound, her hand casting about over glasses, a
contact lens case, two old Bibles, and a beer mug from Berlin filled with
unspent Guatemalan Quetzales, both in bill and coin form.
What time was it?
Fighting to focus her eyes, she
pulled her consciousness into the present moment, yanking it deep out of a
primordial state, leaving behind images that made sense only so long as you
didn’t try to assign words to them.
11.01am.
Ahh shit. Fucking daylight savings
time, she had told him this would happen.
There was his WhatsApp message,
waiting for her: “Let me know if and when you are ready.” Her right thumb
clumsily swiped the screen, and she tapped out: “As predicted, I got confused.
Running downstairs to grab coffee, call you in a few!”
Covers off, feet on the floor, stop
at the bathroom, down the stairs, boil the water, grind the coffee beans, tap
grounds into the press, pour in the boiled water, stir.
Inhale.
Pause.
Grab
plate from the cupboard, pull scone from the bag, pour coffee into the mug
(just add milk), take mug in right hand, balance plate in the left, head back
up the stairs.
“I’m
here. Ready?”
She
plugged in her headphones and pulled up the WhatsApp screen, tapping the call
symbol. Ringing filled the headphones, and after three iterations:
“Heeeeyyy!
Can you hear me?”
She
smiled, happy to hear his voice after two months. “Yep. Can you hear me?”
“I
can. How are you?”
“Oh,
you know what I’m like pre-coffee. But I’m fixing that right now…better I ask,
how are you? Or more importantly, where
are you?”
“We
just got back from Bologna, we’re in Munich.”
“It
sounds like you’ve been busy. How ‘bout you fill me in?”
She leaned back in her chair, took a swig of the fresh coffee, and
settled in to hear about his adventures on the other side of the world.
