A snippet – The Dreaded Morning

Posted: March 3, 2011 in #fridayflash, A Snippet

My ‘A snippet…’ blogs are literally that – A snippet from my WIP novel. I hope you like it.

One tired and dreary morning, began just like any other. Kate hit snooze six or seven times, before hiding her beeping phone under her pillow, knowing that her time in bed, was up!

She moved her warm prickly face to the cold side of the pillow, refreshing her tired pink skin just for a few seconds and pulled the duvet up and under her chin, making her feel safe and assured. She had to get up and the longer she stayed there, under her duvet with her head sunk into the huge soft pillow, the more she regretted not leaving that second bottle of wine in the fridge the evening before.

In a slow-motioned freeze frame, as if someone had pushed a button on her life remote, she flicked the duvet to one side and gradually got to her feet, ready for her monotonous morning tasks before work. For some reason today felt different, she seemed more vacant than usual; an unoccupied feeling was overtaking her thinking patterns.

When she looked into the bathroom mirror, in amongst the water marks and smudges that always seemed to appear, but she could never work out from where, she realised things just weren’t going to be able to continue in this way. Her red, blotchy cheeks were just a small reminder of how she felt, and her diminutive, puffy eyes made her look almost extraterrestrial, as if someone or something, had sat poking her eyes with miniature plunges, for the entire night whilst she slept. She used a shaky finger to pull her bottom eyelid, half way down her cheek. She wasn’t sure why she did it, its something you see in films when people wake up tired or unwell. She reached for her make-up bag, as she would do every morning and began to try to construct a respectable looking face. The foundation bottle should have been her sign, not to bother continuing her mission, as she shook it and bashed it harshly against the smooth porcelain sink in frustration to get every last trickle from its rim. She grunted at it sharply, as if the defenceless bottle had feelings and was intentionally withholding its contents. She soon tossed it to one side and proceeded to get ready for a day in the office, without foundation.

Every step she took in her normal and regimented daily routine was a chore. Even combing her hair seemed like a military mission, which only the brave would have attempted on a day like today. She didn’t feel like a person, she couldn’t dress to impress, or even know how. She didn’t feel like a whole person, so why dress like one? She wore the same pair of black trousers all week to work, washing them mid week and praying they dried in time for the next day. Her tops were plain but each in a different colour, with no real feminine touch or even a shape to them, just like the trousers. They were comfortable, clean and most importantly they didn’t stand out. If her clothes stood out, then so would she.

As she walked through the main entrance doors to her office building, things seemed different. She walked slightly hunched, with her head looking more to the ground than in front and her eyes didn’t want to fix on any one person, in case they said “Good morning”, or “How are you?”

She smiled politely, but she felt very small and vacant. This feeling wasn’t unusual, in fact it was more normal to her everyday life than anything else, but for some reason, today she couldn’t ignore it. It wasn’t going to work out; she knew that from the first step out of her front door this morning. Unlike most days where she was able to paint her face and hide beneath her dark coloured clothes and thick wavy hair, today she felt like a child who’d lost their favourite teddy, being forced into the world without the security of its unconditional love and devotion. But, she continued to go about her daily routine all the same. She gently smiled at the receptionist Carol, who welcomed her with a cheery good morning grin, as she answered the switchboard calls and greeted each caller with an optimistic greeting, “Good morning how may I direct your call?”

Kate then realising her emotions had gone into over-drive, swiftly turned around and preceded through the tall glass doors, quicker than she had entered. The hustle and bustle of people on the street, was a muffled noise and all she could hear in her head was the fast heart rate in her chest. People on mobile phones, children in push chairs crying and traffic rushing past her made her panic and she found it difficult to catch her already shortened breath. She wasn’t sure how she arrived back home, she couldn’t remember walking past her local corner shop with the familiar smell of stale beer and tobacco, nor could she remember crossing on the pelican crossing opposite her street, or putting her key in the front door. But she’d got there and in one piece. She closed the front door behind her, slowly falling to the ground. Her back was lent on the cool gloss finish on the door, with her feet stretched out in front of her. She sat there with nothing running through her mind, a mere glazed look and a concentration in her eyes, as the thumping of her heart began to quieten in her ears and her chest moved in a more controlled and less frantic manner. With a heaved, deep barren sigh, she got to her feet. Stripping her clothes off item by item, as she climbed up the stairs, she drew the curtains, shutting out all the outside light, noise and life, before falling onto the comfort of her bed, in just her underwear.

She pulled the duvet over her head and curled herself, so her knees were almost touching her chest and her arms were holding onto her legs with extreme grip. She pulled the pillow under her head was suddenly calm. She could breathe and felt protected, contained in her own little cocoon of softness and warmth. She took some deep breaths and closed her eyes.

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Comments
  1. kenzie says:

    Not very interesting…..there was no dialougue and just really didnt get my attention. nice description though but kate was basically a mime I cant realate to. Srry

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