It was another beautiful morning. The forecasts said the showers would continue for two more days. How could it have gotten any better?
Darcy looked out of the window, deep in thought. She was sitting on her bedroom’s whitewashed window seat, admiring the wet outdoors and recuperating from her recent fever.
Contemporary piano music poured out of her sub-woofer and a pair of doves whooshed past the window. All that was missing was a mystical landscape. Instead, the view offered to her was of a sprawling cityscape and a close-up of a partially constructed building. Not so hot. At least it was raining.
Darcy had managed to score a few days off from work, and thus was delighted with the way things were turning out. Wet weather, a week off, the recently released sequel to her favorite action novel (it hadn’t disappointed) and the prospect of a good scoop; it was all great.
She had been up all night, reading, and now wondered if it was time to hit the sack. She got up and carefully slid her paperback back onto the top shelf, next to the first book of the series. The ‘sliding in’ was something of a tradition with Darcy; she had been going through with it religiously, ever since sixth grade. No book was allowed on the top-shelf, unless she had loved it, or there was some sentimental attachment to it.
Recently, the number of attachments and favorites had grown, and so now the top two shelves were reserved for the special cases. And God forbid if a book was shelved before it had been read. Darcy had always been very particular about such small things.
She sat down cross-legged on her bed, and pulled out her journal from her bedside drawer. A little bit of writing would be nice. It didn’t matter what she wrote, as long as she wrote it.
An hour later, she roused herself, turned the music off and decided to go out for breakfast. It was nearly 9.30. After a quick shower, she changed into her skinny jeans and purple Angry Birds T-Shirt. She pulled on a soft red cardigan, since it would be a tad chilly outside and her dark green combat boots.
It was only a ten minute walk to Truffles, one of her go-to places. It was a small, cosy place founded somewhere in the early 1950’s . That explained the decor. Darcy didn’t really care as long as the waffles were great and her cappuccino was freshly brewed.
The owner, Mabel, was just setting the place up when Darcy arrived. She looked up at the tinkle of the bell, and smiled. “I must say, this is early even for you Darcy!”
To Be Continued [probably]