Thirty-Three Days: Day 1

Day 1

Upon waking she almost managed to forget the news. That is, until the radio switched on and the voice started blathering on and on about the end of the world, and asking people to call in and talk about all the things they regretted not doing.

“Why not go do them, instead of spending all this time regretting it and bitching and moaning and wailing?” she murmured to the cat perched on the edge of the bed, staring at her. “Yes, Merlinda, I know. I know! I’m getting up.” she said with a sigh, and the cat, seeming smug, hopped down to the floor and proceeded out of the room into the kitchen.

Dia slipped out of the bed, wrapped a robe around herself, and made her way down the hall to the kitchen. She turned on the kettle and then spooned half a can of food into Merlinda’s bowl, setting it on the table by the window. “There you go, your majesty.” she cooed and the cat, a svelte siamese with ice-blue eyes, leaped up gracefully to eat and watch the sun rising.

Watching Merlinda eat for a moment, Dia smiled and turned to fix her tea, looking out the window over the sink. It looked like every other day. The sun was beginning to rise, and the colors streaked across the sky, painting it pink and pale orange. “How can anyone worry about the end of the world when the day begins like this?” wondered Dia aloud, stirring a spoonful of honey into her tea.

She shrugged, and took her tea with her into the living room, curling into a chair and looking to her journal. She’d spent the day before making a list of things she wanted to do. Things she thought she could or should do before the world ended. Setting her tea on the table she picked the journal up and leafed through it. Hot air balloon ride. Ride a gondola. Kiss someone in the rain. There were some rather silly wishes, and some very outlandish ones.

“Everyone needs to dream, right Merlinda?” she asked, spying the cat prowling into the living room, having finished her breakfast. The siamese trilled and hopped on on the arm of the chair, peering around Dia’s arm at the book. “What should I do today, hmm?” asked the woman, not seeming at all surprised when the feline climbed over her shoulder and into her lap, nudging the book with her muzzle. The woman laughed and scratched the feline between her ears, earning a deep rumble as a response.

“I suppose I’ll just let fate decide.” she mused aloud, and with her eyes closed she trailed her finger up and down the page. It made as much sense as anything else, after all. When her finger stopped she opened her eyes and read the words her fingertip had paused upon: find a four-leafed clover.

Dia chuckled to herself, looking to the cat in her lap, now gracefully grooming herself as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “I don’t suppose you know where I’m going to manage -that- in the city, do you?” Her only reply was an answering trill from Merlinda, who then hopped out of her lap and trotted over to a sunny patch of floor. “I see you’re going to be no help whatsoever. Fine, you stay here in the sun. I’m going clover hunting.”