Miriam

Miriam awoke from a fitful sleep to the sound of an alarm. Getting up to turn it off, the time read 6.00 am - no way! But I only just went to bed. This is almost as bad as being woken up at the crack of dawn by roosters the time I lived on that farm in Omoba. Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh! Omoba was a village in Abia State, Nigeria. Miriam grumbled and double-checked the hour with the watch on the window sill, the one with black leather straps. In spite of the confirmation that it was indeed six o'clock, she crawled back unto the Queen sized bed which suddenly seemed too large for just her. She lay there in the dim light that spilled in from the street lamps outside. Sprawled across the bed with her head off the old feather pillows, she thought about her windows that had remained bare of curtains ever since she moved in. Initially she had purposed to buy some fabric at Cabela & Sons downtown in order to sew the drapes herself. Still she never got around to doing it. Not yet anyway. Consequently, for now the plain ivory Roman-style blind prevented anyone who was tempted to peer inside from doing so. These had come with the flat. With this last thought she was fast asleep and lost in a land of dreams.

Another alarm... 6.15 am... oh man, nooooooooooooooooooo! She had pressed the snooze button earlier instead of the off button. Today was not starting well. Again she leapt from her bed half-startled by the ringing and cut off the phone alarm of her Nokia. This black and silver camera phone with blue tooth technology had been a gift to herself when she was leaving Liberia back in December 2005. It cost her all of $350. She loved it. Climbing back unto the rumpled sheets, her eyes closed yet again. Immediately, or so it seemed, there was a beep and this time the cell phone lay under her pillow. She reached for it noticing the text message from her sister. Time now was 7.10 am. Oh my... I was supposed to leave at six-thirty for my early morning appointment. No, this was not good. Without sitting up she dialed the number to the experimental group and left a voice mail. She knew that the staff would not be in the clinic at that time. They would get her message in the next two hours: Hi Sophia, this is Miriam. I spoke with you yesterday to reschedule but I just woke up and don't feel so good. I'm so sorry to be canceling again but I shall call you later to reschedule again. I am so sorry and please let Cindy know.Thank you. Her body let out a huge sigh. Eyes heavy, voice gruff and body weak, she paused; seated on the edge of the beautiful wooden bed gazing at the lovely feminine dresser in front of her, with its triple mirrors and tiny drawers and white-cushioned stool beneath. It reminded her of the Victorian-style decor that was very fashionable at one time in the U.K. The last thing she remembered was opening her email and finding two messages from the love of her life. Alas he had not forgotten her. She had started to read the first email when the text message had woken her the third time. Had she dreamt that?

Feeling extremely disoriented plus a little unsteady, she made her way into the living room to turn on her laptop computer. At the same time her mind registered hunger and she wondered... was it a stress hunger, or a physical hunger, or an emotional hunger? She gave it no further thought and walked into the cramped kitchen to fix a bowl of oatmeal while her system was booting... cinammon spice mixed with regular flavour. Done, she retrieved it from the microwave and then popped it into the freezer for a rapid cool down. By this time she was already checking her email... no new messages. Then she searched for his IM... nothing. Her heart began racing wildly and her mind became giddy with despair... almost twenty-four hours with not a word? Was he alright? Was he safe? Was he in the sick bay? Perhaps he was too weak or maybe had no access to a computer or even a telephone. She would not worry, she thought. She would not dwell on that now. Besides the clock was ticking and time was moving. She was still tired from such a restless night. Now her tummy was really complaining... she would have her oatmeal then snooze on the couch for a bit before getting up to prepare for work. It was time she got herself another job. The monotonous routine at Lardy's Upholstery was more than she could bear after a mere three months there. She'd call Mark on the weekend and ask if the position at the solicitor's firm was still available. This was a prestigious group run by Kline & Crawford. Apart from the longer hours she might be required to put in there, it would be a welcome challenge. This thought uplifted her spirits and she settled down to eat.