The day started off the same as always, with the wailing of this damn alarm.
“Good Morning… Good Morning……” shut up woman, you know nothing.
Same thought, different day. Needless to say I am not a morning person.
I am also not one of those people that become normal after a cup of coffee.
I need at least 2 hours to be a decent human being, 3 if I got less than 6 hours sleep.
Cassy, my overly energetic Jack Russell cross is still fast asleep on her back. Dog thinks she is human, even sleeps under the blanket with me. Must be nice to just do as you please all day long.
Limping over to the shower, due to this damn foot that still hasn’t healed after my epic failure of a hike 3 weeks ago,
Slowly, I start arranging my thoughts for the day.
It’s going to be a busy one. And with busy comes stressful. Note to self, book full body massage at the end of the month, hopefully I can afford it this month.
Like I said earlier, I am not a morning person.
Today is definitely a tights and dress day, in my favourite colour…. Black.
At least my hair is blonde so I don’t look completely goth, and just to prevent that further, a blue and grey jersey. No point dressing up. I’ll be firmly seated all day.
You know you are constantly late when having breakfast cereal is a luxury best left for the weekends, I think as I run around the kitchen getting my coffee ready for the car ride into work.
Now, what do I have for lunch? Really Aria, you know that you are just going to buy something at work. “Such a waste of money. Lazy ass,” are the answers that filter through my mind.
Yes living alone has its draw backs, no one to talk to in the morning, and I barley cook so there are never leftovers for lunch.
As I rush out the gate I walk straight into someone, stepping back I’m grateful to see it’s my new neighbour and not some homeless person. I’m late and have no time to be guilted into parting with my lunch money right now.
Looking into his blue eyes I am reminded yet again that I have still not asked his name. Honestly though, I have only seen him a few times and have acknowledged him even less.
“Seems the postman messed up again,” he said.
My confused looked probed him to further explain that my mail had ended up in his post box again.
“I attempted to catch you last night, but I had to go out. Emergency at work.”
I, at this point could only think about his accent, and had still not said anything. I just stood there, staring.
He laughed and said:
“Hi, I don’t think we have actually been introduced, I’m Alaric Amsel.”
“German,” I blurted out, half shouting in triumph, as my thoughts aligned to his accent.
Turning, as I know I would, the most radiant shade of red, I manage to reply, “My name is Aria McCallan. Sorry about that, on the best of days I forget to filter and I couldn’t help but wonder about your accent. Been in Cape Town long?”
“A couple of years.” He looked rather annoyed at the question.
“Well, it’s super nice to meet you and thank you so much for my post. But I really have to go.”
Looking down at my watch I realised I was already so late, that there was no point in rushing. But Alaric was now staring at me and he was making me feel extremely intimidated.
His annoyance broke and was replaced by a breathtaking smile.
My heart skipped a few beats and I was grateful that he could not hear that, though if I was not imagining things he had this look that he knew exactly what was happening.
“Yes, have a great day Aria, see you around.” He waved and walked back to his gate.
After an exhausting and correctly assumed stressful day, all I wanted was to do some yoga, eat some pizza and have a glass or 3 of wine.
My happy thoughts were short lived when I was confronted by a mass of cars lining the streets and blocking the entrance to my driveway. Parking a short distance away, I realised that Alaric was having a house warming.
Walking over to his place I noted that it was rather quite for a house warming. No loud music, no happy voices. Nearing the door I felt suddenly nervous and was starting to reconsider. I can always move the car later.
Just as I was about to turn away, the door opened. A petit, dark haired lady stood scowling at me.
“Hi, I’m looking for Alaric. Someone blocked my driveway and I would like to pull in.” I stuttered, taken aback by this glaring lady.
Before she had time to reply the door was ripped further open, to reveal Alaric in a loose fitting black t – shirt and grey track pants showing off his athletic stature.
With just one look from Alaric, the dark haired lady disappeared back into the house without a word.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother; it’s just that someone has blocked my driveway and I want to pull in, but if you busy I can always do it later.” I rushed to add, as the annoyance had returned to his face.
“It’s the silver Merc. They are more than welcome to park there again, as soon as I’m in.”
He nodded and mumbled an apology, advising he would send the person right out.
After thanking him, I hurriedly returned to my car.
Not even a minute later an equally athletic – looking blonde guy ran over to the Merc.
Promptly pulling into the garage and waving thanks, I was indoors and into my yoga outfit, eager to forget today’s stress.
11 beginner poses later, I tucked into my pizza.
My mind couldn’t help going back and reviewing Alaric’s strange behaviour. Determining that I definitely did not do anything wrong, I resolved to just avoid any further contact with the man.
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South Africa • 37 years old