(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction and the characters are not real!!).
I have had the shittiest of days.
It started at 7.18 this morning when I slowly peeled my eyes open, stretched my arms out wide like a starfish in my huge but cold king size bed. My quilt had somehow turned half around during the night and half of the pop studs had come open; half of the quilt had also come out of the cover. What do I possibly do in the dark of night, in my deepest of sleep for this to happen?
I could feel the hard crust of sleep caked into the corner of my eye and the dried up dribble stuck on the corner of my mouth. My mouth that felt like sand paper from last nights garlic bread and too much red wine. I also had a massive wedgie from my pajama pants, pink and floral, very girly, so unlike me. Very uncomfortable it was, the wad of fabric pulled up so tight. Perhaps this is what had woken me up – my alarm had not – this was the first drama of my day.
You see, my alarm is set for 6am, every day, even on the weekend. It’s my routine, the same one that I have had for the 4 years, 8 months, 3 days that I have lived here, by myself, alone, with no one to love or to love me (sorry, I got off track there, you get the picture though, I’m a spinster – who even uses that word!?) I get up at this time every day, I go for a run, breakfast, shower and in the office by 7.45. Today though there was no run and no breakfast. There was a shower, albeit quick. There was no fancy hair do, just my bleached blond hair pulled up into a messy bun.
The second drama of the day was the hole that I burnt in my top when I was multitasking and checking my emails. I was cursing and swearing at one that my client sent me during the night, when I received a text from Dominic. Ah sweet Dominic. Handsome Dominic. Met on a date last night Dominic. Shit – hole in top!!
The third drama of the day was arriving late for work, not being able to get a car park, having to walk in my shiny red leather stilettos to the office and all with a killer headache as I hadn’t had breakfast. And if truth be told I was also slightly hung over. Hung over from wine or from the charms of Dominic, I wasn’t sure. There were some parts of the evening I couldn’t remember, but was that from too much alcohol or was I blinded by his hotness?
The fourth drama of the day was when my friendly barista didn’t put the lid on my coffee cup properly and it proceeded to spill on me when I look a sip of the liquid gold that was supposed to be the cure to my hangover. Thankfully I had chosen to wear my power colour of black in a skin-tight mini dress, so I was able to wipe it off with a damp cloth from the office kitchen before anyone could see.
My day continued to proceed from one drama to another with clients calling me all day and asking the impossible, bosses nagging me with insignificant issues, and deals all giving me grief. My home time came and went, the darkness set in. My hangover went though thankfully. The only thing that didn’t improve was my memory of my night with Dominic.
As the lock in my heavy wooden door clicked over and I grappled with my handbag and groceries that I picked up on the way home, I shoved the door open with my shoulder. Puss my tabby was there, waiting and annoyingly weaving through my legs as I was trying to get to the kitchen to dump my bags.
It also seemed in my hurry and drama and hung over state to get out the house this morning that I had forgotten to turn the TV off in my bedroom. Wafting from my room was the melodic voice of an angel singing a song I had never heard before. It sounded almost operatic, but with a touch of country and a dash of R & B thrown in. I stood there in my kitchen just listening. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t make out the words, I was just a voice and a melody. Slowly I could feel the tension release in my shoulders. I wondered who this was singing, surely someone famous.
With my red stilettos swinging in my hands I padded down the narrow passage to my room, only to see that my TV wasn’t on, neither was my radio. What was on though, was my shower. I could hear water like the rain on the roof. The beautiful singing voice was coming from my shower. How many more dramas could I have in this day? Ironically I didn’t feel scared. The singing was almost hypnotising me. I should have felt scared though; I live alone and no one has a key to my house.
On my tippy toes I snuck through to my bedroom and towards my en-suite; stepping over my quilt that was still on the floor, and around the pile of clothes hanging over the ironing board that is still displaying my shirt with a burn hole. My weapon of choice for this intruder was my stiletto gripping tightly in my hand, my knuckles white. I peered around the door frame and there in all his naked glory was sweet Dominic. I was greeted with buns of steel, soap sudded shoulders that clearly lifted weights, often; and his distinctive jet black hair. Running up the back of his left calf muscle was an intricate tribal tattoo and around his right ankle a leather band was securely tied. He really was a magnificent creature, and he could sing. Be still my beating heart. I stood there for moments in a daydream, my eyes glued open and my mouth wide in wonder.
But, how the hell did he get inside my house?
Now, I’m going against the norm here – yes its me – Emerging Chook aka Jo back again. I’ve decided to end my story there, leave you hanging in suspense. I have 2 ideas in mind to finish this little story and I want to see which one you would go with.
A – I burst into the shower brandishing my red stiletto and confront dear Dominic in a state of rage and accuse him of break and enter and threaten to call the police. Only to be told that in my drunken state the night before I had invited him back for dinner and gave him a key and my address and told him to let himself in and make him self at home. He had simply taken me up on my offer and I couldn’t remember due to reasons noted above.
B – Don’t care why or how dear Dominic got into my house or why he was singing in my shower as he was seriously sexy and after the shitty day that I had had, I wanted to forget all about it. So I would strip down and jump in the shower with him and wash away the stresses of the day. (That sounds a bit 50 Shades of Grey doesn’t it?!).
So, in ending, which ending would you choose? A or B?