a simple love story
It was a big house. A very big house. Actually, I think a house like that is called a mansion. It was white. Sleek and modern. The woman pulled out a key from her purse and opened the door for me. I took off my shoes at the entrance and slid my feet into some slippers. She showed me the inside while talking to me without taking a break. I kept following her and nodded my head. Occasionally, I let out an “ah” and an “oh” to not be rude. I wasn’t listening to her at all. She kept handing me things and insisted for me to take notes. She talked and talked while I watched and watched. Her phone rang. It was the standard Samsung phone ringtone. She excused herself and stepped away from me. I saw her shaking her head and mumbling something. We said our goodbyes and I headed out. It was raining and I didn’t bring an umbrella with me. To begin with, I don’t own an umbrella. They are a hassle. Rain has not killed anyone yet. I lifted my hood over my head and plugged my ears with some music. It was only about a 15-minute walk to the train station anyways.
That same day repeated itself several times until a week had passed. My schedule wasn’t hard. It was simple. I had to follow some rules and do my job. Like any other job. I needed the money, so I accepted it. They needed someone urgently, so they accepted me. Whoever “they” were. I saw other people working but our interactions were kept minimal. I made sure of it. It was a 3-month contract. I signed it. The woman who I forgot the name of, kept the original and gave me a copy. The tasks were simple. Handling them would not be a problem. She hesitantly gave me a set of keys and left before me. The sole of her black pumps was coming off. I decided to keep quiet. I walked around alone. No one was here. My steps echoed through the hallway. I got goosebumps on my arms. I locked the door and pulled my hood over my head. I took three steps and turned around. I grabbed the handle and shook it. It was locked. I pulled out my earphones and placed them in my ears. It was raining again.
I was wearing my black face mask. Why? Because I am allergic to house dust mites. I had to dust off everything and tidy stuff up. I was wearing surgical gloves too. Why? Because I don’t like touching other people’s belongings. The song I was listening to was really good. It was released yesterday. I was interrupted by a man knocking on the glass door. I opened it. He told me that he was with the dry cleaner company and here to deliver some clothes. I was asked to open the front door. I did. The clothes were heavy. I shuffled my way into the bedroom. Why did it have to be on the second floor? Don’t get me wrong. I am not lazy. I just don’t like stairs. But going down is not too bad, I guess. The sun was going down. I took my time today to do all my tasks. The light in the living room was on. I was sure I turned it off. You should always save electricity. It was probably him who turned it on. The man in the suit standing in the middle of the room.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I asked a question first,” I said.
I took out my earphones. He did not seem to be too bothered by me. His long fingers were typing something. To him, his phone was a higher priority than me in that moment. I grabbed my things from the counter.
“How long have you been working for me?” he asked.
“Three days,” I answered.
His phone rang. He sighed and went up the stairs. His phone rang again. I made sure to lock the door behind me. It was not raining today.