Proactive?

Proactive?

294 words

“I know, I can’t wait to see it finally finished.” Clare held the phone with her shoulder as she unlocked the door and surveyed the apartment while her friend responded.

“It’s about time things work out for you. First the burglary, then the broken pipes flooding your entire apartment. Well, how does it look?”

“Oh, it’s nice. Very nice.” The sunlight made a lace pattern on the new hardwood floor. Polished to a high gloss, the wood warmed the room, giving an air of luxury. “It is nearly perfect.”

“Clare, what is it? You sound disappointed, is something missing?”

“I’m not sure. Listen, I’m going to let you go, settle in and enjoy my new space.”

Hanging up, Clare wandered through the apartment, appreciating the sophisticated look. It really was quite stunning. But, it was finished. Complete. Done. And her anxiety was back.

She needed to keep her friends on the hook for sympathy and concern so she remained the center of attention. Clare took in the beautiful space one last time as she wandered to the couch. Pulling out a box of old research papers she fanned them on the couch and coffee table and scattered crumpled paper from the table to the kindling box by the fireplace.

Pouring a glass of vodka, she carelessly spilled it on the couch, on the papers. She knocked the bottle over and watched it leak onto the wood floor. She drank deep before dropping the glass onto the couch.

“It’s odd,” Clare said out loud as she lit a cigarette. She took a long drag and exhaled with a slow hiss. “Maybe the mess was the missing component.”

She dropped the lit cigarette onto the couch and watched it ignite as she turned toward the door.