But today … When Eve opened her eyes, in the half light of the morning, she could smell the coffee from the kitchen, along with a meld of sweet and spicy fragrances wafting under her door to her bed.
She drew her gown around her hurried to the kitchen. On the table there was a crisp linen cloth, with a full breakfast placed on top. She did not recognise the crockery, or the cutlery, or the bowls of fruit and porridge, plates of pancakes and fruit rice, jugs of syrup and milk, and a pot of coffee.
“Oh this is great!” she said out loud exuberantly. And then sat down to enjoy her fare. Secretly she assumed that it was Puck that had left it there for her.
The very next morning the exact same thing happened again, only this time the crockery was different and the menu slightly varied. There were blueberries in the porridge, and muffins instead of pancakes. Some hard boiled eggs and fresh juice had appeared as well.
Before she could sit down to enjoy herself her door bell chimed. It was her neighbour - an elderly woman who had survived a tedious life, shackled with arthritis and regret.
“Hi Violet - are you ok?”
“Yes yes dear - I was just checking that you yourself were doing alright - there was a lot of coming and going this morning in the early hours.”
Eve was not exactly sure what Violet meant by this, but was touched by her concern.
“Oh please be assured that I am more than alright,” she said, looking back into the kitchen at her breakfast waiting. From the doorway Violet could see it too.
“Oh, er, it would be really nice if you could come in and join me,” she said generously.
Violet stepped into the apartment without hesitation and carefully, unsteadily, sat herself down. “Well this is very nice” she said appreciatively.
On the third morning yet another breakfast ‘appeared’ slightly grander than the others and with more placings than the previous ensemble. Once again, there was a visitor at the door: it was Violet who had returned very hopefully, this time with the ruse of there being a wayward piece of mail to deliver, which was merely a pamphlet from the local complex - and alongside her was Letitia from 2b.
Letitia had been large all her life, and now, in her seventies her bones were beginning to disintegrate under the strain of the weight. She stood behind Violet as though trying to hide from sight. And yes, of course, Eve invited them both to join her in the breakfast feast.
“You have been busy dear,” said Letty with great enthusiasm. Violet nodded to her ravenous friend, in covert style, as if to say, didn’t I tell you?
By the sixth morning, the extraordinary foods were still manifesting, and so were the neighbours: Bryan from the basement, a barely employed, not-very-good handyman, had offered to paint enamel over a scratch on the Vauxhall, at 8am; and Peter, a retired lawyer from Caracas had stopped by with a petition of signatures he was collecting. And so there were now five of them around her little table, which surprisingly had five place settings set that day, with food enough for everyone.
There was a sixth chair in the corner, where sat their invisible host watching on. It was Needles the Dwarf, her recovered friend, who in a debt of enormous gratitude had felt compelled to be her helper evermore.
One other thing that had escaped Eve’s attention was that Letty, Bryan, Peter and Violet all happened to belong to the local WW meetup group. The WW did not stand for World War, or Weight Watchers, but rather Witches and Warlocks a society from down the road. And although their age made them appear benign and sweet, this gathering just happened to be anything but.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
“Oh this is great!” she said out loud exuberantly. And then sat down to enjoy her fare. Secretly she assumed that it was Puck that had left it there for her.
The very next morning the exact same thing happened again, only this time the crockery was different and the menu slightly varied. There were blueberries in the porridge, and muffins instead of pancakes. Some hard boiled eggs and fresh juice had appeared as well.
Before she could sit down to enjoy herself her door bell chimed. It was her neighbour - an elderly woman who had survived a tedious life, shackled with arthritis and regret.
“Hi Violet - are you ok?”
“Yes yes dear - I was just checking that you yourself were doing alright - there was a lot of coming and going this morning in the early hours.”
Eve was not exactly sure what Violet meant by this, but was touched by her concern.
“Oh please be assured that I am more than alright,” she said, looking back into the kitchen at her breakfast waiting. From the doorway Violet could see it too.
“Oh, er, it would be really nice if you could come in and join me,” she said generously.
Violet stepped into the apartment without hesitation and carefully, unsteadily, sat herself down. “Well this is very nice” she said appreciatively.
On the third morning yet another breakfast ‘appeared’ slightly grander than the others and with more placings than the previous ensemble. Once again, there was a visitor at the door: it was Violet who had returned very hopefully, this time with the ruse of there being a wayward piece of mail to deliver, which was merely a pamphlet from the local complex - and alongside her was Letitia from 2b.
Letitia had been large all her life, and now, in her seventies her bones were beginning to disintegrate under the strain of the weight. She stood behind Violet as though trying to hide from sight. And yes, of course, Eve invited them both to join her in the breakfast feast.
“You have been busy dear,” said Letty with great enthusiasm. Violet nodded to her ravenous friend, in covert style, as if to say, didn’t I tell you?
By the sixth morning, the extraordinary foods were still manifesting, and so were the neighbours: Bryan from the basement, a barely employed, not-very-good handyman, had offered to paint enamel over a scratch on the Vauxhall, at 8am; and Peter, a retired lawyer from Caracas had stopped by with a petition of signatures he was collecting. And so there were now five of them around her little table, which surprisingly had five place settings set that day, with food enough for everyone.
There was a sixth chair in the corner, where sat their invisible host watching on. It was Needles the Dwarf, her recovered friend, who in a debt of enormous gratitude had felt compelled to be her helper evermore.
One other thing that had escaped Eve’s attention was that Letty, Bryan, Peter and Violet all happened to belong to the local WW meetup group. The WW did not stand for World War, or Weight Watchers, but rather Witches and Warlocks a society from down the road. And although their age made them appear benign and sweet, this gathering just happened to be anything but.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
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