Varjo the cat

Thackary collapsed into his armchair, drained and exhausted from a full day of mind melting research paperwork that slowly began to translate itself into a foreign language consisting of graphics opposed to letters. Using his fore fingers he gently massaged his temples which seemed to be pounding and closed his eyes to remove the bright white circles that had stamped into his vision. What felt like mere moments of winding down turned into hours and next thing Thackary awoke to see the fire had been lit in front of him and balancing on the armrest was a steaming mug of tea. The strong citrus scent of bergamot lifted delicately tracing around his nostrils and a smile curled upon his lips.

Sitting up carefully he pulled his long curly brown hair up on top of his head and leant forward on his knees taking in the warmth of the fire and the relaxing aroma of lavender that was burning on top the mantelpiece. Outside was dark with a spell of blue that seemed to accumulate in fogs of cloud above the neighbours ceramic chimney pots. Rubbing his thumbs over his eyes he felt a cool presence enter the living room from behind him for which he turned, resumed his vision and felt a pang of adoration for the new visitor.

Eva had walked in, with her short pixie cut of pastel pink hair, her curves wrapped in a warm dressing gown and her ice blue eyes shining in the firelight, she shuffled across the rug in her big polar bear slippers and held out a small plate piled with chocolate biscuits. “Seemed like an Earl Grey and biscuits sort of evening my love…” she sprayed a small amount of crumbs as she spoke and giggled covering her mouth whilst Thackary took the plate of biscuits on to his lap.

“Boy am I glad to see your beautiful face again, it’s been too long.” Thackary lifted the warm mug and felt the smooth hot vapor begin to clear his foggy head. “It’s been such an awful day, well week. I feel my head is leaking out of an open valve that I can’t seem to locate and switch off.”

Eva perched herself on a footstool in front of the fire and held her palms aloft breathing in the warming smoke scent listening to her love expel his gripes. She looked back and smiled softly as he took in turns munching on a biscuit and then sipping his tea in between babbling on to himself. A few minutes later she leant forward and squeezed his knee.

“You’ll be okay Thackary…” it was like a spell had broken and all the warmth had sucked out the room. He paused mid sentence slowly placing the mug down as the joy drained from his eyes. Eva noticed his pain and moved closer kneeling in front of him taking his hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted. I just don’t want you to wake up and feel this heartache anymore.”

Thackary sighed taking hold of her hands tightly. They were freezing as if she’d held them in snow for too long. Looking into her eyes like great pools in the ocean, they seemed to turn lighter the long he gazed upon her beauty and his heart seemed to sink further down his rib cage. That heavy torment had returned as it did every night when she spoke honestly.

“I still need some more time my love that’s all… I’m just being selfish, I can’t let go…” Thackary sighed deeply and glanced down to see her fingers running between his. Her long cold skeletal fingers that held no weight seemed to melt into his own.

“It’ll get easier my darling… just wake up…”

Eva’s soft soothing voice drifted away to a small whisper and Thackary awoke. His body was awkwardly slumped in the armchair, the fireplace whistled from the cool breeze outside and there was a cold blue hue cast over the living room. All the warmth and love had evaporated in those split seconds and the pixie girl of his heart was again gone.

He pulled himself upright feeling a sharp pain in his neck from having slept awkwardly. The clock in the kitchen rang through for midnight, he must been asleep for a good five hours yet his dream lasted mere milliseconds. There was never enough time anymore.

Thackary wandered down into the basement where the kitchen sat in the dark, a short fat black cat was asleep in the sink as a striking moonlight bathed the Victorian floor tiles. He wandered by the cat who peacefully snored and stood watching that big lunar command the dark abyss of the night sky. What once brought him comfort, now brought him loneliness and misery.

Turning around he caught sight of a small pile of cards by the hob. All listed with sympathy notes and poetry dedicated to his dear fiancee who had since passed. On top of the jumble of cards was a post it note with a simple scribble drawn, “time to let go Thackary.” He picked them up, pulled open the cutlery drawer and placed them inside before closing them and turning his back to lean against the counter.

Varjo the cat lifted his head sleepily upon hearing the drawer bang close. Thackary leant over softly stroking his silky ears back to sleep and wiped his own tired, worn and aching eyes. Another day without his girl. But yet another dream she had visited to soothe his broken heart. How much more could he take? How much longer until his dreams would become his reality?

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