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Published: 2004-01-21 18:08:59 +0000 UTC; Views: 123; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 9
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She put out her cigarette and pulled open the front door of the chapeaux. Chapeaux means hat, and she was actually staying in a house. But this house was in France, and Sarah wanted a French name for the house and chapeaux just sounded right. She took in a deep breath and reminded herself to thank her publisher for this experience. There was a note on the coffee table:"Sarah, make yourself at home. Marcel will be by to clean the pool tomorrow. There's a market down the street, if you need anything. Take care of yourself, don't do anything stupid, and stay out of the liquor cabinet."
Liquor cabinet, heh, right. She threw her bags on the floor, except for her briefcase. His name was Henry. She would keep him in her hand until they had picked out a room for him. Sarah fancied naming things. It layed the foundation for a good relationship.
She and Henry searched through the downstairs first, in desperate need for a kitchen. She preferred one with food in the pantry, but any kitchen would do. The light was bright and yellow, pouring over everything. Far too happy, she thought. She opened the pantry to find nothing, a good excuse to go shopping later. Henry and Sarah looked through the living rooms and den only to be completely disappointed with a suitable room for either of them.
The two companions went upstairs to find that this chapeaux had approximately eight bedrooms. The first one they entered had a nice desk, bureau, and mirror. She set Henry down carefully on the naked mattress and opened him up. She took out Shelly, her laptop computer, and plugged her in. Henry and Shelly were close. Very close. They got along rather well. Sarah hoped they'd enjoy this room. She let them get comfortable while she went to find her own room.
She walked down the hallway to the back of the house. The floorboards creaked and welcomed her into her new habitat. She turned the corner to find a large daybed with stuffed animals on it. Adjacent to the bed was a large, ornate mirror. The second mirror she'd seen in the house, and it was starting to intimidate her, though she didn't know why. She lay down on the bed and for a brief moment, relaxed. She quickly sat up, walked into the next bedroom, removed the crucifix from the wall, put it in the closet, and trotted back to her room. She thought about lying down again, but her attention was drawn to the balcony.
Curiosity dragged her outside and concern led her eyes down to the pool. There were brown, red, and yellow metallic leaves lining the surface of the water. A bird bobbed on the surface, lifelessly. Kim, Sarah thought, I'll call her Kimberly. She quickly scribbled a note for Marcel, instructing him to go home without cleaning the pool. She needed Kim to be left right where she was. She was Sarah's only inspiration.
She left the note downstairs and headed for the liquor cabinet. She poured a glass of whiskey and went back upstairs, hoping Shelly was ready to work. She dragged a chair over to the desk, sat down, and opened Microsoft Word. Staring at the hopelessly blank page, she took a sip of whiskey from her glass and started to write what would be her next big novel. She typed and typed random thoughts (feathers, wings, cheese, confetti), without thinking of any particular story. This went on for a while until she realized her chair was causing her butt to ache, which led her to conclude he was mad at her. She hadn't yet named him. She thought for a second and the name Owen came to mind.
"Owen, how are you? Thank you for letting me sit on you for so long; I'll give you a break now,"
She stood up with her drink in hand and moved herself over to the mattress. Carefully placing her exhausted body upon the giant pillow of blue, she forced herself to finish the drink as quickly as possible before going to sleep. She hoped Henry, Owen, and Shelly didn't mind. The trip had been long, as most trips from New York to France are. She needed to rest because in the morning, she had shopping to do. The pantry was depressingly empty.