i woke up early and stashed last night's bottle of whiskey into my backpack. the sky was a turbulent cyan, beyond the window of my childhood bedroom. aside from a single suitcase all my things were still in the car. there was no dress change until i brough the boxes in.
but coffe first.
i opened the door on a dark empty staircase, walked the 2 steps toward the creaking stairs, bumped my head on a decorative element, slipped, cussed, got to the kitchen and reached for the kettle just in time for an assault.
someone yelled and barelled towards me.
i threw the kettle at them.
glass and tiny elecrical parts scattered over the floor to my cried. “what the fuck, mom!!! what the actual fuck!!! jesus, for fuck’s sake!!!”
“fiadh?”
“yes!” i yelled, pushing my shaking hands into my hair while sampling the damage. “of course it’s me, who the fuck do you fucking think it could be?!!”
cool and collected my mother lowered the decorative giraffe statue she was armed with and smoothed out her mauve nightgown. “there are break-ins now, you know. dangerous criminal elements. the news said so.”
i glowered at her. “where would the fucking criminal element get the keys?”
“don’t cuss,’ she replied. then, turning to the stairs called up, “it’s fiadh, mark! tell the garda everything is alright, now”
i sighed, lowering my face into my palms while she stashed away her girrafe and enveloped me in a tight hug. her body felt warm and small. she used to be so much taller than me. she used to be taller than the world.
i pulled away, attempting a smile that felt short. “coffe?”
“oh, i’m afraid the kettle is busted.”
“i can use a top,” I proposed, opening a cupboard and looking in. i wondered where, among all this colourful junk, will i ever be able to stash my earless prague mug.
my mom pursed her lips. “well… they have kettles at lidl this week.”
i stopped and pulled my head back to look at her. if her face was any indication she was not fucking joking. “it’s quite early and…”
“they open in 4 minutes.”
“are you seriou…”
“yes, now that i think about it there is this one cyan option i've had my eye on…”
“mom, i didn’t have my coffee yet and this is just…”
“yes, baby,” she said in a very calming voice, pointing at a supermarket ad, ‘that is why we need the kettle, see? oh, and while you’re there maybe grab some eggs and rolls? i’ll make us a nice omellete.”
