Five Shadows

Chapter Three

I didn't make it to work the next day. I woke up on the couch at 6:17am. Same as every day whether or not I set my alarm. Whether or not I had a glass of wine or a bottle. Regardless of what time I went to bed. I'd been waking up within five minutes of 6:17 since school. I checked my phone. A text from Gwen.

Nooooooore! I miss you, grl! At happy hour now- call ltr? Then about one hundred emojis blowing kisses at me. Annoying. This was not the Gwennie I knew and loved. My Gwennie loved crocheting and writing poetry. Her bucket list included things like: "See Pentatonix live" and "Get my license" and "Learn to play guitar." Since moving out west she was a different person. Happy though. So good for her.

Eggs sounded good, but my pan still sat dirty in the sink. I dumped yesterday's soapy water out and thought about washing it, but didn't have the ambition. Instead I ate a plain untoasted bagel. "Worst. Breakfast. Ever." I said to my empty kitchen.

"No kidding," I imagined somebody agreeing.

There was movement by my hairline. A hazy black bulb that flickered, then disappeared. It gave me pause. I hadn't had a migraine in years, but that was sometimes how they started. With blurry colors framing my line of vision. It appeared again, arching around my face like a black rainbow. I pressed two fingers to my temple. No sign of a headache. Maybe low blood pressure? I froze for a few beats and when normalcy resumed, I gave my head a shake and pulled out clothes for the day.

I hate all my work clothes. They are garbage. We have to dress in business casual even though we never see the light of day in customer service. I do the bare minimum. Black pants, sweater. Acceptable to HR, does not require ironing. Win. Out of habit, I stopped in front of the full-length mirror. Ugh. I forgot to shower last night. Stringy black hair dropped down my shoulders and sat in pieces on my boobs. The whites of my eyes looked too yellow, my lips were chapped. At least my complexion was clear. For now. My pants hung looser than I remembered them fitting. I looked boxy. "Frumpy!" I exclaimed, pitifully happy to have found the appropriate word.

"Dowdy!" A voice came from nowhere. Anywhere. Somewhere that wasn't me.

My brain was fuzzy from wine and sleep. It was sending lethargic signals to the rest of my body. When I realized I wasn't alone in my apartment, I clutched my heart, like it was the only thing in the apartment worth stealing. Honestly, whoever it was would be better off taking the Keurig. "Who is that?" I practically sang it out. Politely. I didn't want to offend the intruder, bizarre as that logic is.

There was a giggle from someone who wasn't me. I spun around. When I circled back to the mirror I stopped. Where they should only be frumpy, dowdy (it was accurate no matter who said it) me, there was a cloudy black speck floating behind me. Still no migraine. So then, what? The speck expanded and wavered, then solidified and perched itself (herself) on the end table beside my living room couch.

She giggled again and I had to assume it was at my expression. My mouth was frozen at the beginning of a W question. "What?" "Who?" "Where?" But my lips were stubborn and stagnant in a whistling pose. The rest of me stood stupidly, a hand dangling mid-air, a foot awkwardly poised to take a step forward. When really, logically, I should definitely be moving backward. Away from whatever this thing was in my living room. Or was it in my living room? I must be dreaming.

"I know what you're thiiiiiinking!" Her i's were a playful little song and honestly, I wasn't in the mood. I managed to move my hands to my hips. "I'm not a dream! Everyone always thinks we're a dream. Nope, I'm the real deal, baby!" Then, the smoky black... vision? Apparition? Whatever it was stood up and shook her hips in a seductive figure eight like we were at a club rather than my living room at 7am on a Thursday.