The door bell rings. My daughter is ready with all her luggage. She is going to her Dad’s for half the summer holidays. She is surrounded by so many colourful bags and musical instruments that I forget that it is only for three weeks. Mozart is also going with her and sits patiently, slightly confused with all the fuss and bother bouncing off his pricked-up ears.

It takes a number of trips to the car to create an empty space in our appartment. Mozart is the last little item to be scooped up and whisked away. I don’t dare return his gaze. My little friend and companion is leaving me for a while. My daughter blows me a final kiss and as most teenagers do, stumbles clumsily out the door with our little dog tucked under her arm. The door closes and I look around at the chaos left behind. Summer shorts and tops, sandals and shoes, coloured mounds of clothing scattered throughout the appartment. A moment of panic ensues. Did she forget something? Did she say she wanted to bring that pile over there with her? I realize that my daughter has some sort of logic in her untidiness which she had explained to me some time ago. I heave a sigh of relief and head towards the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea.

Silence greets me with a gentle embrace. I trip over a rubber bone. A piggy-like squeal escapes from Mozart’s favourite toy. I hope he doesn’t miss it too much. I have a feeling that he will be too busy running over beaches and green fields. I don’t want to get sentimental and hope that he is well-looked after.

The sun shines mercilessly down on my balcony. I decide to take my tea out to the sunshine. Saturday afternoon usually is so noisy and now a lonely pidgeon perches near me for company. I throw him some crumbs from my digestive and he flies off into the heated distance. My artist neighbour downstairs is giving summer workshops. I hear the hum of the chatting participants. I wish them well in painting their hopes and dreams. The smell of exotic food greets my inquisitive nostrils. My African neighbour, the other side of me, must be cooking for her visiting family. I hope that they will enjoy their stay with her and eat together with love and generousity. I drink in all the smells around me and realise that I am very lucky indeed.

I close my eyes and revel in memories of my own youth. I honour the past with reference and decide to go to the forest later and light a candle for all my dead loved ones.

Silence wraps me yet again in her still warm embrace and I appreciate the time she has taken for me. A small breeze tickles at the fine hairs on my arms. He seems to want to play with me for a while. I brush him away and he teases my hair. One lock falls on my cheek and he leaves it there. I close my eyes and time comes to me on his journey. He makes me realise that it is important to be on my own. I am not going to plan on this lovely afternoon. I am just going to sit here and be who I am. Two pidgeons suddenly appear and perch beside me.

"Ah, my friend, you have brought some company." I throw the rest of my biscuit to their awaiting beaks.

A crying baby breaks the silence around me. I don’t mind. Silence bids me farewell. The telephone rings. I have just been texted on my cell phone. The post lands noisily in the hallway. The washmachine rattles on its last centrufuge. I smile and walk into the living room and start to tidy-up. It’s nice to have time on my own. Time to…

I look around and my little companion is nowhere to be seen. My noisy teenage daughter has disappeared. I let out a big Yippeeeeeeeeee. But I have to convince myself that I mean it. Time to give myself permission to do what the hell I like. Sounds even more promising. I am getting convinced by the moment. I look at the Marilyn Monroe clock on the wall. I have exactly 21 days and 10 minutes to do whatever takes my fancy. Right now, I just want another cup of tea and Marilyn winks at me. Perhaps, I will go out and have some fun tonight. Time to enjoy being on my own…
 

Niamh

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