Jan 28 2010
She fumed as she was thrown out of the story abruptly. These interruptions were beginning to be intolerable. She had planned to be reading for the afternoon, and now had several empty hours to fill again. Usually the lack of windows in her rooms didn’t bother her; she was as uninterested in looking out of them as she was in anyone having an easy line of sight into her home. At this moment, she’d likely be smashing the glass. With a last frustrated glare at the firmly-closed book cover, she rose from the couch and left her sitting room to check the door in the main room.
Locked, as it usually was, and no key readily available. The viewing window set into the door at eye-level was no help either. There was no one out there to see regardless of which angle she peered from. She dropped back the dark blue curtain covering the door’s window and spent a few moments absently stroking the edge of the velvety fabric as she thought. When no brilliant epiphanies ignited her mind for the wishing of them, she decided to work off some of her irritation with exercise. A session with the free weights should tire her out enough that a shower and nap might follow nicely after.
Her exercise area was at the opposite end of the large main room from the door, angled in such a way that someone working out could easily view the media screen on the left wall. She didn’t load anything to watch. The exercise mat was clean; she always wiped it down carefully after each session. Her weights were on a rack against the wall, and her innate design preferences were evident here. The weights themselves were neatly aligned in the rack and evenly spaced with each other, but there appeared to be neither increasing nor decreasing organization along the shelves in terms of relative weight. She selected a pair of twenty-pound hand weights from where they lay next to a two-pound barbell plate and set them down at right angles to one corner of the mat. She stripped down to her bra and the thin linen pants she was wearing, draping the rest of her clothes on a rod she’d attached to the back wall for just that purpose.
Maybe after her nap she’d be able to read again. The image of her door standing open, her rooms empty, kept appearing in her mind as she worked up a thin sweat. She tried to manipulate the image to view it from different angles, but it remained stubbornly static. Empty rooms; an open door.
If she couldn’t read, she’d find where the key was. Perhaps it was time to venture outside again after all.