Frankie was left, alone and in the dark. Previously, she routinely woke up to the brightness behind the curtain, with Seymour’s head on the pillow to her right. The sight of his curly brown hair would be the landscape she woke up to. There was a familiar warmth that would come with that awakening, a sigh of relief her heart would feel, that someone was there beside her. Someone taking her out of her loneliness, someone she could focus attention and motivation onto.
Today she wakes to a white pillowcase. Slightly crumpled at its surface. But what she notices most is the air that lies above it. The way she has a clear view past its surface to her windowsill. Without having to elevate the top of her head, she is able to see her bright orange succulent and the garden behind it.
Despite the melancholy that surrounds this moment, she notices a new kind of beauty she immediately appreciates. As if she can suddenly see more without the blockage of Harry's head - his body preventing her from exiting the right side of the bed.
She rolls herself over and crosses over to that forbidden side, shifting her weight in one swift movement that brings her torso upright and her knees to the edge of the mattress, so that her legs dangle over and her feet hit the floor.
Today she wakes to a white pillowcase. Slightly crumpled at its surface. But what she notices most is the air that lies above it. The way she has a clear view past its surface to her windowsill. Without having to elevate the top of her head, she is able to see her bright orange succulent and the garden behind it.
Despite the melancholy that surrounds this moment, she notices a new kind of beauty she immediately appreciates. As if she can suddenly see more without the blockage of Harry's head - his body preventing her from exiting the right side of the bed.
She rolls herself over and crosses over to that forbidden side, shifting her weight in one swift movement that brings her torso upright and her knees to the edge of the mattress, so that her legs dangle over and her feet hit the floor.
She stands up without worrying about any disturbance she may cause. She stands up facing the window and walks without hesitation towards it, bending over the window sill slightly, before deciding to place her elbows down to rest on its edge.
To submerge herself further into the moment, she brings her face close to the glass; the mist of her breath creates a glistening blur of droplets before she slowly presses her nose and then her cheeks and finally her lips to the cold glass.
The sheer proximity she now has to the outside, motivates her to experience the cold morning air. She decides to slip on her sweater from the night before, dangling from the chair below the window. She throws it on, before sliding her feet into socks and then slippers. Too lazy to find her pants she floats down the stairs, past the kitchen and towards the door to her garden.
She steps out quietly. Noticing the lush of morning dew around her. She inhales and watches her exhaling breath vaporise in front of her like cotton candy. Her face moves her expression into a smile. Her cheeks bulge and turn the colour of marshmallow pink.
To submerge herself further into the moment, she brings her face close to the glass; the mist of her breath creates a glistening blur of droplets before she slowly presses her nose and then her cheeks and finally her lips to the cold glass.
The sheer proximity she now has to the outside, motivates her to experience the cold morning air. She decides to slip on her sweater from the night before, dangling from the chair below the window. She throws it on, before sliding her feet into socks and then slippers. Too lazy to find her pants she floats down the stairs, past the kitchen and towards the door to her garden.
She steps out quietly. Noticing the lush of morning dew around her. She inhales and watches her exhaling breath vaporise in front of her like cotton candy. Her face moves her expression into a smile. Her cheeks bulge and turn the colour of marshmallow pink.
If one were a witness to Frankies life, they would know her cheeks had not changed colour in months. Her teeth slowly appear as her lips softly form a timid smile. She looks up and basks, tilting her head back and to one side. She tries to preserve the moment; the feeling for as long as she can.
She enters a meditation, one where she feels a sense of peace and place. Gratitude seeps into her meditation in a way that surprises her. Over the last few months she was gasping for it, trying to find it in every small moment and felt it almost teasing her; dangling slightly in front at arms reach, but somehow unattainable - until now.
The warmth of the sun swallows her, and she lets it diffuse through the layers of her exposed skin. Closing down her eyelids to feel it immensely. She enjoys the bright red she sees behind the cover of her lids.
Just before she's ready to open her eyes again, clouds drift so that the rays of the sun dim and she opens them to a dappled light, formed by the shadows between the leaves.
She turns herself towards the house and starts walking back. Grateful for the glimpse of warmth and ready although frightened for the day's events. Unsure of how she will hold up, or how she will manage her new life she turns on the kettle.
She enters a meditation, one where she feels a sense of peace and place. Gratitude seeps into her meditation in a way that surprises her. Over the last few months she was gasping for it, trying to find it in every small moment and felt it almost teasing her; dangling slightly in front at arms reach, but somehow unattainable - until now.
The warmth of the sun swallows her, and she lets it diffuse through the layers of her exposed skin. Closing down her eyelids to feel it immensely. She enjoys the bright red she sees behind the cover of her lids.
Just before she's ready to open her eyes again, clouds drift so that the rays of the sun dim and she opens them to a dappled light, formed by the shadows between the leaves.
She turns herself towards the house and starts walking back. Grateful for the glimpse of warmth and ready although frightened for the day's events. Unsure of how she will hold up, or how she will manage her new life she turns on the kettle.