The Hourglass

Five

I only stayed at the coffee shop for a couple of hours before heading back to my apartment. I usually work from my kitchen table. I set everything up as usual and wandered over to my bedroom to check on the hourglass. I feel calm in my apartment. 

The walls are white throughout with dark wooden floors. My bedroom is small, but not closet-sized. It fits a queen-sized sleigh bed. I have a matching dresser and bedroom table set that came with it. It was donated to me by the ladies at my dad's church. It was in great condition, and I was very grateful I did not have to take my childhood furniture with me into adulthood. It would remind me too much of mom...

My apartment is bohemian-themed, with mainly black, white, and beige colors. I have colorful accents here and there. There are splashes of green from the hanging plants, and my curtains are a pale pink. It's very different from my childhood home, and I love it.  

I walk over to the dresser where the ornate hourglass sits. The sand is still moving slowly. I've never had to wait this long to live out the dream.  At least it's running slow, I think. I sighed as I went back to the kitchen to finish working. It's Friday, and I suppose I'll have to sacrifice sleeping in tomorrow morning so I can be present at the coffee shop. I couldn't tell what day of the week it was in my dream; I just assumed it would occur that next morning as it always does. 

Chelsea video calls me after work, and I pick up. She's driving home, and I'm putting away my laptop. "Hey, wanna hang out tonight?" she asks. 

"What do you want to do?" I ask hesitantly. I wasn't sure I was in the mood to hang out with her and her coworkers. 

"Me and some of the girls from work were going to go get a drink, eat some bar food, blow off steam. You know, just chill. You want to come?" she asks with feigned nonchalance. She knows I'll likely say no, but for some reason, she asks anyway. 

I think of my dad and sigh. He would want me to go. "I guess," I say, not trying to hide my reluctance. I watch her face light up in surprise. 

"Really?" she asks skeptically.

"Yeah," I sigh again. "Why not, right?" 

"Okay, cool! Meet us at The Pub around seven. Okay, I love you, bye!" she says quickly and hangs up, clearly not wanting me to have the chance to change my mind.

I pause for a moment, just standing in my living room, wondering if I made a mistake.  I decide it doesn't matter and head to my bathroom to get ready. I don't often wear makeup unless I'm going out. I put on a little this morning since I went to the coffee shop, but it needed touched up. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the light. I stand in front of the mirror and see a younger version of my mother. 

I'm pale. I have long, straight, red hair and bright green eyes. My mother says she named me Rosaline because she always dreamt that I would look beautiful, just like a red rose. I try not to think about her as I get ready. 

I wander back into the bedroom and head for my closet, deciding on a simple black dress for the evening. I'm average in height, neither too tall nor too short. I'm average weight, neither too fat nor too thin. I never feel exceptionally beautiful no matter what I do, but that's okay. It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone. 

 After getting ready and feeding my cat, it's time to leave. It will take me about thirty minutes to get to that end of town, with traffic. I take one last look at my peaceful sanctuary before I leave, dreading the night before me.