An Experiment With Loss

She closed the front door firmly, but not before a "Come a little earlier tomorrow, we have to go out." She walked towards the guest room that doubled as the computer room. The small house did not offer much in walking as an exercise. She turned on the computer, ambled to the window, stood watching the street below while it fired up. It was just 10 am and the summer sun was glaring back at her in all his glory. She squinted painfully, before closing the lace curtains.

Sitting on the slide back chair, she was soon lost to the world around her. As she opened her inbox to check the mails, thought she heard a soft voice whispering. Dismissing it as the by product of an over active imagination, turned her attention to a forwarded joke mail and chuckled quietly as she read through it. There was the voice again. It was steadily yet softly humming in a rhythm. She recognised the faint echoes of her name. Someone was calling out to her, but an unfamiliar voice, not one you could identify at first hearing. 

'Sounds like the noise is coming from the front door, maybe, the bell isn't working...but why didn't they knock on the wood?'

Grumpily got up, as she neared a particular doorway, it become obvious that the sound emanated from in there. She peeped in cautiously, 'What if it was a stalker?'

 The scene before her was a stuff of dreams. The table was occupied and looked inviting. She stepped in the room and glanced at them all. They looked back at her, bright and attractive.

 Running her fingers through her unkempt hair, her eyes and heart aglow, she silently argued,

"One more day wouldn't make that much of a difference, would it?

"It will not, but that is not the issue here!'

'What is?'

'Accountability!'

'Go away, won't you?'

'Not this time, not for a long time. Get over yourself. I am here to stay.'

Sighing, she made to move, when the soft voice from before hummed again. It came from the left side of the table, she noted absently. The voice suddenly went quiet as newer ones that had been silent were now gaining momentum, whispering pleasant entreaties. Enticing words that appealed to a particular emotion far more than to the others were being uttered from all corners. The whispers soon grew louder, now clamouring for her undivided attention.

Some solicited her presence openly displaying their best qualities. They preened and pouted, reminding her of her latest zoo visit. He had been strutting around, showing off his colourful feathers much like these. They were obviously for ones with expensive tastes with snobby airs.

 Two of the group watched the commotion with detachment bordering on amusement. They needed no extra charms or marketing skills to attract, secure in the knowledge of her servitude.

"She is addicted to us, all right." the creamy tones remarked, catching his reflection.

"Quite right, if the perky eyes are anything to go by. But, admit it brother, she prefers me to you.” retorted the powdery voice cracking his knuckles in boredom.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Honestly you make me laugh. Not a day goes by without her wistful glances at me, where you are ignored for weeks together." whistling in contentment.

"Only glances" smirking, "It's this dude she reaches for with her delicate fingers, when she needs a shoulder to cry on...'" before immersing himself in pleasant day dreams.

She was bemused, unsure when someone else who had been watching this banter with growing irritation, butted right in. 

"Stop your vain glory, insolent fools! One of these, I am going too..." the fourth, much older voice was interrupted as a fight broke out.

She stood shell shocked, unable to react, amazed that all this drama was for her humble self.

"Move over, you greasy son of a cow!" ordered the dark one with a fragrance to die for...

'He tasted heavenly too.' 

The greasy son not to be outdone pitched himself firmly in the way. In a voice dripping with disdain "Mister Greasy keeps her breezy on those lonely nights, you leave her by."

The round bellied said wisely, "Meet her comforter on all days of the year. No one else is dearer to her."

"Why don't we just ask her?" the soft voice from earlier spoke, now seated rather uncomfortably on the table top.

"Not a bright idea, this new one of yours." the rest sneered.

The gentle one retreated, beaten again, a score of zero to six. 

She felt a stab of pity for him, for he was one of her favourites. She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, that had the ones at the table mighty concerned.

'Was she ill? That would spell disaster.'

'Was she in a bad mood?’ the dark one sure hoped so, for he would become the chosen one for today.

'If she is unhappy, I stand a chance' the beaten one's face perked up with this happy thought.

She looked at them all for what seemed like eternity, clenching and unclenching her fists.

'This can't be happening'

'It is and will get worse' smug tones proclaimed.

'Make them leave!' she begged.

'Only you can. Use your power of discretion.'  then faded away.

The internal conflict resolved, she gave them an accusatory look. There was guilt and longing mixed in too.

Poking through the wooden cabinet by the table yielded the usual suspects. She picked up the manual from the seat and sat down near them. Adding a glass of skim milk to the bowl of muesli, sprinkling it generously with pomegranates, she ate in silence and mild frustration, reading the instructions.

The soft voice, hurt and thus emboldened, openly cried 

"What went wrong in our friendship? I stood by you..." rudely interrupted by

"We all did, for over a decade, through thick and thin, and this is the thanks we get?"

She munched on, head down, struggling to articulate her thoughts. She flipped through the manual in her hand and finally decided to end the game once and for all.

"Yes, I appreciate what you did for me. The highs and feeling of being loved you fostered in me."

Pausing, 'Had she finally lost her mind' then continuing,

"But I hate, really do, the other gifts you have bestowed on me."

"What other gifts? All our gifts are good!" they screamed in unison.

"These tyres on my stomach which had me resembling a bleached whale at last week’s party. Not forgetting the scary proximity of my David and that flirty, size four Kim."

 Then with wishful moaning, “He has promised me a solitaire if I lay off ...”

 The breakfast over, she dumped the deadly seven, one by one into the garbage can... apologising over and over again.

She had passed the first test, the one set by the Food Addicts Anonymous. Heaving sigh of relief...if only, she didn't suffer a relapse the third time!

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