Velvet

During lunch I ate the last slice of cheese. I'd have to go to the grocery store later that day. I opened up my laptop, but there weren't many projects that my clients were sending me. Two years after my husband's death, they still didn't want to "pressure me too much". Sure... They just didn't want their project to be associated with me, a middle-aged woman living alone in a cabin in the woods like the witch I am.

It had rained all day, but during the late afternoon, the sky cleared up, emphasising the woods' vivid autumn colours, perfect for an evening run. I lay down on the couch with a book. After one page, I laid it beside me and took a nap.

I woke up by evening. If I went to the grocery store right away, I'd make it before closing time. I microwaved some canned macaroni and was satisfied with that as dinner.

After putting the half-empty plate and dirty cutlery in the sink with the rest of last week's dishes, I settled on the couch again with my book. I didn't finish the chapter and ended my day with streaming Dowton Abbey, falling asleep on the pillow-less couch.

***

The sound of a morning storm against the wooden roof woke me up too early. When I got into my car to go to the grocery store, I saw that the tank was almost empty. I sighed. I'd have to stop at the gas station as well.

Luckily, the store was quiet on a Thursday morning. I wasn't ambushed in any undesirable conversation. At the gas station, there was Carl.

"Good morning, Erika. It's been some time. Everyone turns up at the gas station one day or the other, but I always seem to miss you."

"It's a five minute drive to town, Carl. I don't need to fill the tank very often."

"You never go further than town?"

"No."

"No, right, I understand."

I treasured the awkward silence that had fallen.

"Can't be easy all the time," Carl broke the silence.

I didn't have to answer, knowing he wasn't done.

"You know, Erika, I admire you. How you find a way to continue. I wouldn't know how to go on with life if my dear Rosa would die. You're very strong. Many people are always nagging about how hard their life is, then I say, think about Erika. She's not complaining all the time, and she'd have a right to. People should take an example of you."

"Yes, Carl."

"Well, take care, and catch you later."

"Bye, Carl."

Tears rolled down my cheeks on the five-minute drive back home. When I was carrying my shopping bag inside, my second encounter of the day awaited me. Through the sash window at the back of the house, I normally had sight on an empty terrace, followed by the garden that consisted of some trees and a shed.

Today, on the humid terrace filled with brown and orange leaves, a fox was sleeping. When I got closer to the window, trying to make no noise at all, I could see its side go up and down, slowly, peacefully.

I touched the window, failing to slide it open without making a noise. The ginger animal woke up, stared me straight in the eye, and right when I thought it was going to attack me, it just tilted its head a little. I turned my head in response, and the fox made a little squeak, not even a growl.

"Are you hungry, beautiful?"

I rummaged in my shopping bag and opened a packed of chicken. First, it seemed confused by the sound of the package opening, but once it could smell the meat, it definitely knew what I was holding.