Using a miniature model I made and customised as my starting point, I simply started to write. Who knows where it will head to, so I am running with it for now. Let me know what you think.
The loft
Prologue
Closing my eyes, I listened. The birdsong from the trees flanking the park at the end of the street. the humdrum for distant traffic, rush hour was long gone, dusk settling making the view seem slightly Smokey and out of focus.
I sat gazing out of the open windows upon the city below. From my elevation I could see the twinkling lights and rooftops of the city below. A light spring breeze cooling me from the open windows.
The attic had become my escape, my piece of silent paradise. I had longed for this solace over the last few days. So much had changed yet so much still stayed the same.
Staring at my open journal page, I realised words were not working for me this evening. Alex had picked up the last of the stuff earlier in the day while I was still at work, I remembered I needed to change the locks.
Two years. It felt like for ever yet no time at all. It was the texts I saw that did it. I couldn’t believe it. My mind felt numb, I had no words, I felt broken. The person I trusted in the whole world had betrayed me. Right under my nose without any hint or warning. The reality of it all felt like a haze I couldn’t shake off. Did I really not see the signs, did I just block them out of my mind?
It was hardly surprising. The move to the city was huge for me. Crowds, hoards of people pushing from every angle, the noise, hooting of car horns, people shouting, traffic, overwhelming my senses day and night. I could forget it all and pretend the rooftops below me were somewhere else right now. Like looking through a portal into someone else’s world. The humdrum so distant I could barely hear it.
I missed the slower pace, the space, the sound of the wildlife I had back home. I could sit at my window for hours, just listening. From childhood, I would try to name all the different creatures I could see and hear. At dusk the sky was so clear, no light pollution to block my view of the stars. Something I just didn’t appreciate till I decided to live in a city.
I used to love walking for hours in the lazy afternoon sun, across fields of long grass, narrow country lanes that weaved around the hedgerows. I could lose myself in those paths, alone with my thoughts and nature.
Mum and Dad lived in a country house in the rural north east. It was a place where time seemed to stretch out, where moments lingered and calm reigned. Not like nowadays, when the days roared by before I could get anything done, it seemed. Oh the innocence of childhood. I was an only child, I thought we were a completely normal family. It seems not. It was in that idyllic isolation that I discovered my love for stories. The trouble was, I didn’t know at the time that my entire life was only make believe.
The entire roofline view was now in darkness. I had no idea how long I had been sitting out here on the balcony, it must have been a few hours at least. I felt the temperature descending, following on from the setting sun.
Suddenly feeling hungry, I headed for the kitchen to find a snack. As usual, I had forgotten to go shopping, no Alex to pick up my mistakes, dammit. After rummaging around for a while, all I could find were a few stale crackers, some cereal and milk. I shoved my shoes on and headed for the lift. The shop on the corner just up the road should have something more than my pitiful cupboards could produce.
Boots, duffle coat and hat pulled down to just above my eyebrows, I shoved my hands deep in my pockets to keep them warm and headed down the street. Hopefully no one would recognise me, It would only take a couple of minutes.
The old fashioned bell jingled, a bit too loudly I felt, as I entered the store. It was a long thin store, with one central shelf divider separating it into two isles. I kept my head down and eyes in front as I passed the till, where Frank was talking to Sandeep, the shop’s owner. Using the shelving to hide behind, I tried to listen in on their conversation. Their constant quick glances in my direction confirmed they were talking about me, but I was struggling to hear what was being said.
Quickly picking up a couple of cans of soup, I used the self service till and was out of there like a shot, heads slowly turning to follow me as I headed back up the street and out of sight. At this stage, I let out a huge breath that I didn’t know I was holding.
I lived in a top floor flat, in one of only two tower blocks in the area. The rest of the houses were arranged into leafy streets and lanes flanked with trees. Double fronted houses, with wide welcoming gateways and perfectly arranged front gardens. I once used to live in a house like that too. Never did I think I would find myself here, now, in this situation. I did missed my parents’ substantial enveloping garden that seemed to protect you from the world, holding you in comfortable isolation.
As I walked by through my front door, the phone on the side table in the hall rang. I kept meaning to get that landline disconnected, like, who has a landline these days anyway. I let it just ring, walking straight into the kitchen to heat up. My soup. Then my cellphone rang. I knew who it would be, I probably should answer it.
‘do you have it? the voice asked. ‘yes’ I replied.
Good, you have 24 hours. They whispered. Then the line went dead.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, pulsing in my ears. Beads of sweat started forming on my forehead. Come on, get a grip, I hissed at myself, screwing my eyes up to hold back the tears.