The Parchment

I wasn't certain that I was awake that morning or only dreaming. I thought I talked to him, but it was so bizarre that I must have been dreaming, that is the only answer.

As I got out of bed, there lay a slip of paper on the floor. It was my handwriting. I lifted it up, trying to remember when I had bought parchment. Parchment? Wait, parchment was part of my dream. There were just two words on the paper, "It's true."

I removed the blanket that I had thrown over the blinds before I went to bed. I had written all night and found that the rising sun kept me from resting my weary eyes. I slipped into my brown loafers and shuffled toward the bathroom, paper still in hand.

"It's true." Whatever could that mean? The magnificence of emptying a full bladder was not wasted as I forgot the note momentarily. I closed the lid and laid the parchment on the seat and began to wash my hands and splash some cool water onto my weary eyes.

The person looking back at me from the mirror was not me; it was, but not the me of yesterday or the day before. I had changed. I had not seen the sparkle in my eyes for years. My skin looked a little less wrinkled than the night before. It seemed to fit me better. Nothing was the same. There was a glow around me. "Perhaps it was just the light reflecting in the mirror. Maybe I needed to put my glasses on to see the flaws" I mentally responded and left the bathroom to start the afternoon coffee.

What was the dream I had? The few memories that I thought I had, by now had vanished. I shook my head. Couldn't remember. Too late in everyone else's afternoon and early in my morning.

The dishes had piled up in the sink and the kitchen looked like it had so many times in the past, disheveled and dirty. "Clean up is a simple task, I don't know why you let it get this way. ...I just do." I bantered back and forth in my head. I was right it is a simple task but some days even the most simple of tasks is extraordinarily difficult.

There was a knock at the door and the cat flew through the kitchen to hide in her favorite spot when visitors came. I opened it, but there was no one there, no one even remotely close to the house. All that was there was an envelope that lay on threshold. "Open Me", had been penned on the front. Another sheet of parchment was inside the envelope; again I recognized the handwriting as mine.

"It's true." That phrase leaped off the page at me. What in God's name was I doing to myself? Had I really heard the knock? My heart began to pound faster as the confusion and almost fear took my breath away. What could I have been doing? Had it started again? I was getting the right amount of sleep. Perhaps the sleep was at odd times, but it wasn't like before. Why did the cat run if this is just my imagination?

The coffee was ready, so I removed a cup from the drainer. It's too early for me to think this hard, way too early. Java will make it all better. The glorious taste of the first cup in the morning swirled in my mouth. "Damn that's good." I said aloud, as though I had anyone that wanted to listen. A thud on my lap and a bump to my cup, reminded me that I wasn't totally alone.

"Damn it, CiCi! You made me spill the coffee." I reached across the table and grabbed the towel for the dishes and blotted up the spot left by my brew.

"So, help me out. Why did you hightail it for the basement?" No response came but a well placed head butt that was my command to pet her. "What did I mean?" I spoke aloud, as though the cat would answer. She looked up at me and lifted a paw, gently patting the side of my face. "Sorry, here you go." Her message was understood, and I reached into her treat jar for her morning snicker-snack.

"Ready for the day Missy?" You could hear her crunching her treat throught the empty silence of the house. "You and me Kiddo. You and me."