Blindsided

Hera

Happy Birthday I thought glumly to myself.

Tomorrow morning I would be 23 and so far my adult life had only been a mostly sad, series of unfortunate events. I tried not live in my sad thoughts. But birthdays were hard. I should be out with friends and family but no that wasn't my life.

My parents had named me after the Greek goddess Hera. She was the goddess for women, marriage, family and childbirth. Not surprisingly though, as all sad stories go, I had no love or marriage to speak of and no family...anymore. My parents had died 4 years ago in a car accident on their way to the grocery store. And just like that I was alone. I didn't have any siblings or close family to rely on. It had only ever been the 3 of us.

Their death brought sadness followed by more sadness. I had to sell their house, my childhood home for money for two caskets and their debt. Their life insurance money hadn't been much help either.

Now I lived in a small studio above a Jewish deli, alone.

Well, except my orange and white fluffy cat, Titan. He was my only companion after finding him in a nearby alley, in a box with a dead mom and the rest of the litter gone. I took him home because we shared the same sad story.

He wasn't playful however and so Titan had suited him nicely as a name. Figured I could keep the the Greek tragedy theme. He would be gone for days at a time only coming home to knock over things and eat before disappearing again.

I worked two full time jobs to make ends meet while storing a few dollars a month away hoping that I could save enough to start school back up again. I had been working on my degree but my parents death changed everything.

Tonight I had worked a double at the diner and it had been a very long day. Slowly I trudged the 1.5 miles from the bus stop to my small studio apartment. My feet ached and back was screaming in pain. The streets were quiet thankfully at this late hour, only the crickets keeping me company on my walk.

Despite not being in the best part of town the few people I met on my daily walks to and from the bus stops were always kind and friendly. I got to my apartment by 10 pm as always after a dinner shift at the diner. I slowly scaled the stairs, my legs exhausted.

My apartment was humble, small and dim but it was home and I did my best to dress it up. I placed my thrift store purse on the counter and locked the deadbolt, chain and knob right away. It wasn't the greatest neighborhood and I was a single woman living alone. Turning towards my couch and opening my bag I removed my cell phone, my only real indulgence to keep the boredom at bay with music, books and games. Then I removed the $64.56 I had made in tips from the diner that shift. It hadn't been a great tip day.

Plopping down on my secondhand couch that I had dressed up with a plain black cover, I laid the phone and cash down on the scratched wooden coffee table.

Dividing the money into three groups of $20s and the remainder in a fourth stack. As was my daily routine I placed each bit of money in its respective bill envelope. One for rent, one for utilities, one for food and the smallest stack into my savings.

As I locked the cash envelopes into my small lockbox and then placed the lockbox back into the small cabinet in the coffee table, my stomach gave a loud grumble.

I had hoped I could stave off the hunger until the morning when I could make the hour long walk one way to my favorite corner market. Tomorrow was Sunday and I needed some food staples, and they always had a small farmers market out front. Fresh fruit and veggies were always tasty and inexpensive.

Allowing my stomach to do the leading I headed to my kitchen and opened the fridge. Peering inside I knew that I had waited too long to buy food and found the shelves mostly bare.

There was a little milk left in the container and there was granola in the cabinet. Making a bowl of the remaining granola and milk I headed to the couch just as my phone pinged.

I didn't have to pick it up to know it was Penny from the diner. Penny was my only friend, if one could call her that. She was nearing 37 years old. That age between being young and feeling old. Widowed a few years back when her husband went to bed and didn't wake up. An aneurysm took him in his sleep and Penny was devastated. She had taken me under her wing as the motherly type given that Penny herself was childless. She had dedicated her life to her husband and her church until her husband died and she lost faith.

I picked up my cell and tapped the button to text messages opening to respond

P: make it home ok H?
H: yes I did. Got home at the usual time.
P: did you lock up? Check the windows too?
H: of course I did, I wouldn't forget.
P: enjoy your day off tomorrow and I'll see you Monday. Good night darling.
H: good night

Laying down my phone I spent the next few minutes finishing up the granola. I cleaned up after myself and then laid out a fresh bowl of water for Titan. It was late but I needed to shower the greasy spoon off of me.

I enjoyed playing classical music from my pandora account while I showered. It was hair wash day and I always enjoyed the extra minutes the chore of washing my long to-my-butt length hair brought me. It was curly and unruly but I loved it long and flowing. Turning the warm water off I got dressed in a long, comfortable big t-shirt and spandex shorts and laid on my soft albeit a little lumpy mattress.

As I laid down to rest I picked up the latest romance novel I purchased at the thrift store and hoped that the tall, dark, handsome hero from the pages would step out from the pages and into my real life. Sleep came quickly as I read. Unfortunately I had no dreams of Prince Charming, handsome and sweet.