my moon, my sun

9

I woke up to the heat of the sun on my back, in my dreams. In reality, I woke up to the light sun and the latter of rain on her big, glass window panel of her bedroom. The skyline of New York completely different to my old view from the second floor.

The room in front of me styled with new fashion of bright colours and triangles paired with squares and circles. A TV rests on a small chest of draws in front of a wall with many, many paintings on it. Maybe hers, maybe not.

I didn't have time to fully examine her room before she pushed me in and onto the bed, but that. I do not regret.

"Marcia!" A hear a shout from the kitchen and suddenly all the other sounds set into place. The honking of horns every half second and the loud ring of telephones.

"Laurie?" I step out of the room and am greeted with the kitchen and a smell of breakfast.

"Morning, you wants eggs?" She stands over the stove, it had a pan on it and she quickly pushed it towards and away from herself.

"You did this all yourself?" I scratch my arm and yawn in the direction of the foot laid beautifully out on the dinning table.

"I wanted you to feel more at home, you know cause you would eat a breakfast this big every morning in France."

"Only because I have maids. I wouldn't have expected this from you.. all by yourself." I smile, taking a sip of my orange juice.

"Well it's not all rainbows, Marcia."

"What do you mean?" I take a seat at the table in front of me.

"I mean that my job determines everything about me. Down to the food I eat."

"I asked you what you mean and I still don't know what you're talking about, Laurie."

"I don't want to talk about this now. Eat and we can talk about it when you're ready." She says, dropping the now cooked egg on the empty plate in front of me.

"What if I am ready?" I look up, watching her face from below and her bright eyes staring back at me. She breaks it. Turning around to put the pan in the sink.

"Well I'm sure not. I never eat breakfast at home so I better enjoy this while I have it. And I'll enjoy it more. Because I'm with you."

She grabbed my hand placing it now with hers and held it as tight as she could.

~~
"Marcia!" I lay on the bed, jet-lag seeming to only just set in.

"Eh?" I shout back. Not wanting to get up.

"Please. Here." She calls back, I had no choice but to give in for her.

I pick myself up, my long white dress flowly nearly along the floor, I walk around in just the dress, no soothes underneath as I'm most comfortable this way. My body warm from the reflection of sun through the window. Not as nice as France but I don't hate it.

"Yes?" She sits outside on the balcony. A cigarette in her hand.

"Sit." She pats the seat next to her. She looks over the city and the lit up skyline.

Midday.

I oblige.

"I love just sitting here and watching the city. I never have time for that anymore. I used to do that all the time when I first got the apartment."

"Eh?" I ask. Not wanting to speak.

"Tomorrow when you wake, I will not be here. I will not be anywhere you know. When you go to sleep. I will not be back. Then when you wake. I will still not be here. You won't see me for a week."