BELLRAM V01 - Ambivalence of Light and Shadow I

BP001-P03 - Cherry Wine 2

Meia came out of her room into the hallway. It was a hallway with a few doors and a staircase that took up a quarter of the space. To the left of her door was a real window. The hallway had been spared the slope of the roof and was full height. Meia liked her window, but unlike hers, this one could be opened wide. If someone was at the front door, you could see it from here. Just to the right of her door was already the stair railing. If someone came up the stairs, you could see that from here too.

Meia hurried. Only a small runner between the wall and the banister muffled the rumbling of her steps. Turning into the stairs, she gripped the railing. The steps creaked several times under her weight. She let her hand slide over the wood and under her fingers she noticed the dents where the paint had chipped. The pictures from the wall caught her eye again. There was no escaping them. They looked like sample images of nature. As if they had been sold with the frame.

Down the stairs you could ran towards the front door, but Meia turned right at the bottom. Through the doorless passage she came into the dining room and as she entered the room, she noticed who was sitting at the end of the table on the left. In the same breath, she slowed her pace and the thought occurred to her whether she should change her clothes first.

"I wish you good morning, Father."

Her father lowered the newspaper. His look was brief and full of disinterest. It did not even last a second, then his face disappeared behind the paper again. "Morning." was the only word he had for her, then he let the paper rustle as if to make it clear that he was busy. Perhaps it was better this way.

The dining room was half a kitchen. That meant there were cupboards, but there was also a separate kitchen for the housemaid to cook. In essence, this dinning room was only for breakfast. For all other meals there was another larger room with a fireplace. It was also at the front of the house just on the other side of the stairs and thus under Meia's room. Both these rooms had two walls with very wide windows. In the corner of the window in this room was a long table with chairs. The furniture was dark wood with decorative elements and red upholstery. Almost all the furniture in this house looked similar. It was probably all heirlooms. Meia did not know for sure.

The table was set. Meia sat down at her usual place at the corner of the table under the window. Her breakfast included a choice of one of two kinds of juice or milk, one of two kinds of bread and many different other things to go with it. A soft-boiled egg was obligatory. She quickly made her choices. White bread with butter and jam, a yoghurt and orange juice would be it. These choices were due to a craving for sweets that had been haunting her since last night. Of course she would eat the egg too. After all, it had been cooked especially for her. It would be brazen to leave it behind. As she sorted out her selection, she could not help but yawn, but hid it behind her hand. At the same time, her eyes went to her father. He already had nothing left. Only a cup of coffee was still in front of him.

Her father always seems serious and confident. He was a man with hair like autumn leaves, but most of it had already been swept away. And the first snow was already on the sides. Gaunt was a word that partially described him. But not quite. He was more like the rest of an impressive person. Among the sample pictures in the hallway was an older one of him. Strong and tall he was there. He was not anymore. But you could still see the past. You guessed he used to be someone. Her father always wore expensive clothes to keep up appearances, but if you saw him every day, you knew his wardrobe did not actually have much. It would be better if he accepted reality.

Meia did not let herself be influenced by these thougts. With joyful anticipation she tackled her breakfast.

The bread was already sliced, so she saved herself the division. Unfortunately, butter did not achieve any appreciable land gains. The strawberry jam, on the other hand, she spread so thickly that the bread had to fight desperately to keep it for the rest of its existence. When lifted, it bent like a rotten ceiling beam, but there were no real consequences. She even managed to take a bite without suffering any collateral damage to her pajamas.