The morning breeze slipped through the open window. A warm tingling feeling—slowly creeping—a ray of sunlight—gently pecking. Gradually peaking—steady breathing—eyes opening slowly—a feeling—so vividly pleasing.
Winter blinked her eyes open to see Matilda staring back at her. "Where were you last night?" she asked out of habit, not expecting a response from her cat.
She stroked and combed Matilda's snow-white fur. Matilda stirred in pleasure, resting her head to Winter's side. "You must have been hungry after your last night adventure." Matilda mewed, and Winter just smiled.
Winter continued her usual morning routine, preparing Matilda's food, cleaning yesterday's dishes, and packing a simple sandwich from Mrs. Dolly's leftover turkey.
She reminisced about yesterday's events. It was wonderful. The Homewoods had invited her to spend New Year's Eve with them, making it a truly special occasion despite Ms. Darbus' snarky remarks about the tedious preparations.
After that, Winter fondly recalled Molly's wide-eyed reaction when she told her some fantasy stories before bed. Sweet Little Molly had begged to hear more about the Galaxy Express Railway, a tale that Winter had recounted countless times.
After she tucked Molly to sleep, Winter reminisced about the time where her mum used to do this to her when she was young.
She hadn't thought of her much lately, but yesterday brought a brief recollection, like the last summer breeze before autumn sets in.
Her mum was like a lingering memory, a reminder of the old times. The memory was a bit bitter, yet wonderful in its own way. It held a flicker of hope, yet faded like autumn leaves when winter came. She hoped that wherever her mum was now, she was having the most exciting adventure ever.
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The morning sun was bright, casting long shadows as she stepped outside with her watering can. The air was crisp, and the ground was still damp from the morning dew. She walked around to the side of the cottage where her small garden lay. The plants were a mix of herbs and flowers, some given to her by Mrs. Dolly, others found during her walks in the woods.
Winter began watering her plants, her mind drifting back to the stories her mum used to tell her about faeries and magical realms. She smiled at the thought, her fingers brushing the delicate leaves as she moved from plant to plant.
As she reached the end of the row, she felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as if she were being watched. She straightened up and turned around, her eyes scanning the area. There, sitting at the edge of her garden, was the black cat from last night.
Its yellow eyes were fixed on her, unblinking and eerily intense. Winter felt a shiver run down her spine. There was something unsettling about the way the cat stared at her, as if it knew something she didn't.
"Hello again," she murmured, trying to shake off the unease. The cat remained still, its gaze never wavering. Winter set the watering can down and took a tentative step towards the cat. "Are you lost?"
The cat didn't move. Winter knelt down, extending her hand cautiously. The cat's eyes followed her every movement, but it made no attempt to approach or retreat.
"You're a curious one, aren't you?" she said softly, trying to sound comforting despite the knot of anxiety in her stomach.
The cat finally blinked, a slow, deliberate motion that seemed almost calculated. Winter took another step closer, but the cat suddenly stood up and slinked away into the shadows of the woods, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
Winter stood up, a frown creasing her forehead. There was something undeniably strange about that encounter. Shaking her head, she returned to her plants, but the feeling of being watched lingered, and she couldn't help but glance back at the spot where the cat had been.
How odd, she remarked.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, as she finished her chores and prepared to leave for work, she couldn't shake the sense that something was out of the ordinary today. Call it a gut feeling, but she'd felt something like this before. It was similar to that time where she encountered a bear in the woods while foraging for wild berries. She thought she was going to die. Thank God she escaped.
She called for Matilda once again to say goodbye, but her cat was nowhere to be seen. "Matilda!" she called again, her voice echoing slightly in the morning air.
There was no response, just the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds.
Winter sighed and grabbed her old canvas bag, slinging it over her shoulder. She locked the door and stepped onto her rusty old bike. She went down the small sloped hill, passing the small puddles of water next to the rock shrine she made for the water sprites when she was young, as she greets them a very good morning.
She pedalled slowly towards the Homewoods residence. The ride was peaceful, the familiar path winding through the woods. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground, she couldn't help but smile how fine the weather was.
As she approached the Homewoods' house, she saw Mrs. Dolly in the garden, tending to the tomatoes. Molly was playing with her dolls nearby, her giggles filling the air. Ms. Darbus and Oldman Jones were seated on the patio, sipping their morning tea.
"Good morning, Homewoods!" Winter greeted with delight, waving at them.
"Oh! Good morning, Winter, dear. Have you had your breakfast?" Mrs. Dolly, with the brightest smile, chirped with enthusiasm. Molly was beside her, waving back and showing her delightful dimples.
"Yes, Mrs. Dolly. I packed a sandwich from yesterday's turkey." She patted her old canvas bag, as if pointing to where her lunch was.
"Would that be enough, my darling?" With a hint of concern, Mrs. Dolly started to pace and began packing a loaf of bread from the table, snatching it from Oldman Jones while muttering apologies and promises that she'd get him a bunch later.
"Would that be enough, you say?" Ms. Darbus said with a deadpan tone. "You gave the child half of the turkey yesterday but still think it wasn't enough?"
"Nonsense, Darbus!" Mrs. Dolly argued. "Winter is going to need lots of energy, now that she has a job!" She chirped with enthusiasm like a mother cheering for her child.
"Winter has a job now?" Molly asked curiously, a bit saddened. "Then, you'll never play with me anymore?" she pouted.
Winter gasped dramatically, putting a hand to her chest. "I thought you'd be the one who'd stop playing with me, now that you'll start going to school."
Molly giggled, her dimples showing as she clutched one of her dolls. Mrs. Dolly smiled adoringly and ruffled Molly's hair.
"We'll play with your dolls later, and I'll tuck you to sleep, Pumpkin." Winter said.
"And tell me stories?" Molly's eyes widened with anticipation.
"And tell you stories," she promised with a gentle smile.
Ms. Darbus scoffed from her seat. "Oh, here we are again with these silly stories."
"Darbus!" Mrs. Dolly admonished, her brow furrowing.
"What? You do agree that they're silly. Not to mention, they were all made up by that foolish woman," Ms. Darbus retorted, setting her teacup down with a clink.
Winter's expression darkened as she muttered, "Please, don't say anything bad about my mum."
Ms. Darbus raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "I beg your pardon?"
Winter stepped forward, her voice steady. "You can say whatever you want about me, but please don't say anything bad about my mum."
Ms. Darbus' eyes narrowed. "Your mother was a bad parent. She left you alone, dying in starvation, in that little cottage of yours, and you're all blind to see what she really was. She was a coward who ran away from her responsibilities."
Winter felt a surge of anger but kept her composure. She knew how vexing Ms. Darbus could be, but today she had crossed the line. Without another word, Winter turned on her heel and headed towards her bike.
"Winter, wait—" Mrs. Dolly called out, her voice filled with concern, but Winter didn't stop.
She could faintly hear Ms. Darbus' muffled words behind her. "Silly girl."
She mounted her bike and pedalled away. The wind drying the tears she hadn't realised were forming.
Her thoughts were filled with frustration and sadness. She knew her mum must have had a reason for leaving. And that reason was something she never truly understood. She thought that they were happy just living together.
Winter wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeves and put on a brave face. Despite Ms. Darbus' harsh words, she remained hopeful that one day her mum will return. And when that time comes, she will embrace her with open arms.
As Winter rode towards Café Guifi, the town square began to come into view. The cobbled streets, lined with quaint brick buildings, were bustling with people going about their morning routines. Vendors set up their stalls, selling fresh produce and baked goods, while townsfolk chatted amiably as they picked out their daily necessities. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers from the nearby market and the distant sound of church bells chiming.
Winter navigated through the crowd with ease, greeting familiar faces as she passed. She chained her bike to a lamppost adorned with hanging flower baskets and made her way to the café. The building itself was a charming, ivy-covered structure with large windows that let in plenty of natural light.
After unlocking the door and stepping inside, she was greeted by the familiar faint scent of coffee. She quickly got to work, tidying up the tables and arranging the chairs. She wiped down the counter and set out freshly baked scones and biscuits she made. The soft hum of the ceiling fan and the gentle clinking of cups and saucers added to the café's warm ambiance.