Allison is on her third cup of coffee. When she made herself a fresh cup she would add an extra spoonful of sugar to the mix. It isn't sweet enough. She feels bitter, she could taste it in her mouth.
She didn't want to go down the hallway. She might not sleep in her bedroom tonight. Going to her bedroom meant going down the hallway, walking past the one door that has remained closed for five years. A room that has yet to be used. All set up, but no one to occupy it.
Allison takes another sip of her coffee and continues watching TV. The rain is pouring down by the bucketful outside. Allison tries to look out her window but all she can see is grey.
Suddenly, multiple knocks erupt out of nowhere. There's someone at the front door. Who the hell would come here? Especially out in this weather!
Allison places her coffee mug on the table in front of her and heads over to the door. She opens it and sees Amelia waiting on the other side. She's holding an umbrella. Her overalls are gone, but otherwise she's still in the same clothes as she was in earlier. She must have come straight here from work.
Allison immediately felt guilty for the nasty thoughts she had going around in her head earlier.
"Hello," Amelia shouts over the rain. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," Allison responds. "Please come in. You'll catch a cold."
Allison steps to the side in order to let Amelia in. Amelia collapses the umbrella, and gives it a few shakes to get the excess water out, before stepping into the house.
Allison closes the door. The roar of the rain dies down to a muffle.
"Would you like a coffee?" Allison offers.
Amelia shakes her head. "I'm actually not much of a coffee person, can you believe?" she giggles.
Allison laughs as well. "Tea, then?" she says.
Amelia nods in response. "Milk with no sugar," she says.
Allison leads her to the lounge room, where the TV is still blaring. She all of a sudden didn't want her coffee anymore. She grabs it off the table and takes it back over to the kitchen, where she tips it down the sink. She leaves it sitting upside-down on the dishrack, and turns on the electric kettle.
Nothing is said for a few minutes. Allison feels extremely awkward: she's never had to entertain before. What should she be saying right now? The kettle starts to bubble, steam billowing out from the spout.
"How was the rest of your shift?" Allison asks. Is that the right thing to say?
"Oh," Amelia begins. "It was fine. It was a really slow day today."
"Ah," Allison responds.
What the hell is wrong with me? She thinks.
The kettle clicks and the bubbling stops almost immediately. Allison makes the tea as Amelia instructed, and heads back over to the table. Amelia is looking around the room, not that there's anything to see. A couple of portraits hanging up, and the TV.
"Thank you," Amelia smiles as she grabs the mug off Allison.
Allison can't stand not knowing what to say. How is she so bad at this? Did she ever have a friend? Of course she did!
Allison had lots of friends growing up. She had big slumber parties every year; it was something her friends looked forward to. Allison always had a theme, her and her friends would get dressed up according to the theme and have the best time of their lives. She might have photos somewhere, tucked away in some box in some obscure place.
YOU ARE READING
Night Shift
General Fiction"It's the same routine every night. I've done it so many times I can basically lock everything down to the very millisecond. Hell, maybe even the very nanosecond. "
