A warm breath of air blew into my neck, tickling my cheeks, my face. Short breaths, rhythmic, melodic. A shadow hung close above me. Lowered slowly, curiously. A familiar sound.
Was it already time...?
I didn't wanna yet. A little longer... tiredness tore at my brain. The flow of thoughts was still very viscous. Distant. But I was already expected. A minute longer - I wanted to beg. Although I knew that my silent observer was merciless. Longing for attention. Not even one minute he wanted to grant me...
A gentle breeze blew the silky curtain in front of a wide open glass door. The smell of pastry fresh out of the oven crept into the room. Soft rustling. And suddenly the thick down duvet was missing under which I had hidden. I moaned and buried my face deeper into the soft feather pillow. Lying in bed, curled up on my side.
With the blanket my comforting warm cocoon had disappeared. Automatically I pulled my knees closer to my chest. My limbs rested leaden wrapped around my chest. The waistband of the jeans cut into my hip. I was still wearing the clothes from last night.
"Lily!" A pair of small hands gripped my arm and shook it vigorously. Impatiently! I struggled to open my eyes, not wanting to. I just wanted to sink into slumber a minute longer... I struggled against it. My head weighed tons as I turned it lame to look at the four-year-old toddler. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, sulking.
His rosy lips were pursed in dissatisfaction as he puffed up his cheeks.
"Lily, hug me," he demanded. "I am hungry."
Sighing, I sat up, pulling him in my arms. Chirping, he curled up on top of me, his soft body snuggled up against me and his chubby arms wrapped around my neck before he rested his chin upon my shoulder.
"Is mummy at work already?", I asked.
"Mummy's already gone," hummed the little one sweetly and buried his snub nose in my hair. I felt his heart flutter and his warm breath trickle down my neck. "Adrien what do you want to eat for breakfast?"
"Spaghetti," it shot out of his mouth barely a moment later. The little one leaned slightly forward and glanced at me with his big round eyes without blinking. An imprint of joyful expectation lay in it. Amused, my gaze glided to the digital display of the black little alarm clock, standing on the wooden table next to my bed. Only seven in the morning. Not really the right time to serve spaghetti. Eager, I looked at the little guy that was resting lazily in my arms. If Elodie had heard this wish of his newfound favourite dish...
I shook my head. "Spaghetti won't be available until noon today," I promised him, although I would have preferred to forgo that meal. For four months now he has been able to eat this dish day and night, without mercy. But neither tomato nor noodles caused Elodie and me to scream with joy. We didn't even want to look at it any more, but forced ourselves to, after exhausting negotiations with our youngest flatmate. Of course, two women were always at a disadvantage against this puppy eyes. I had already given up trying to veto and instead experimented with different spices and ingredients to give this dish the right variety. After all, the Italians were masters of pasta dishes. Perhaps I could do the same? At some point?
"Promise?", he blinked innocently.
I dutifully placed my hand on my chest. "Pinkie promise."
He gave me a triumphant look, one of the kind that catapulted me to cloud nine and made me forget all the stress of last night in the bar. "Why are you so cute?" With my fingertips I pinched his rosy cheek, I had the feeling of clutching a marshmallow, it was so soft and tender. All the annoyance about lunch melted away, as did my heart once I looked into the charming face of this cute dwarf.
"What do you say we go and get something at Signor Vittorio's café?" My brain was longing for a strong coffee and the delicious smell of pastry that was stealing into the flat from the balcony made me hungry for more. Our neighbour Signora Carlotta certainly had some molto gustosa in the oven. Which I would also find in the café around the street corner.
With Adrien in my arms I got out of bed. It had become a bit heavy (mainly because of the spaghetti) so I had to push it a bit higher so that it could sit comfortably on my hip (or rather I could walk without tipping over).
But as I passed by the mirror in the wall, my heart stopped for seconds in shock. I looked as if I had been torn apart by a herd of heyns, the remains left in the heat of the savannah for days until a few vultures took pity on me to repair the remaining damage. Yes - that was a fitting description for this artwork of chaos. A reflection that became a habit.
No new look that I couldn't fix with a cat wash, a light summer dress with a colourful floral pattern, shaggy hair squeezed into a tight bun at the back of the head. But at the sight of the dark rings under the eyes, I gave up. What ever! There was nothing that could be saved either. Besides, the village recognized me anyway.
It was a morning like any other. Quite normal!