“Succos is canceled. Done. Apparently my family’s been WhatsApping about this for two hours already. And of course I just found out. I’m always last”,
Photo: Shutterstock
Done.
The word seemed to weave in and out of her consciousness even while Laylee slept. The house is finished. At last. The end was irritatingly anticlimactic. Almost depressing after all this time.
She clung to the two damaged tiles in the playroom bathroom like driftwood; let their brokenness fill the gaping holes in her mental schedule. Must call the decorator we should probably redo the whole floor obviously those tiles weren’t what I ordered… Still something to do.
Wispy morning light filtered through her bedroom window and the curtain fluttered gently. Laylee awoke with a start. She was used to dreaming in textiles. Fabric and color design and patterns blueprints and placement and perfect stitching. She’d even dreamed the dress she wore to Binny’s wedding sketched it upon waking sent it off to her seamstress triumphantly.
But the dreams about the house had been gray since moving in. Drab. Monochrome. She yawned loudly wondered if the sudden colorlessness was an ominous sign. As she sat up she noticed her phone vibrating loudly on the nightstand. Oh calm yourself it’s barely even morning… what could possibly be so urgent?
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
