She couldn’t remember how she got there. The chair next to her had fallen over and around her ankles there seemed to be some loose, raggedy rope. The floor was cold, al little damp and rough. A musty smell, infiltrated by foggy whisps of something cooking. Meat, and… grandma. Grandma’s cooking. Also something sharp, urine? Feces? Probably mice. Maybe they freed her by gnawing through the ropes. ‘Remember to honour the mice’ she thought. Remember this, for later, when What? What the hell was going on? It was quiet, eerily quiet. Eerily? Really? What a cliché word and anyway, it wasn’t. Not quiet at all. No, there it was, a rustling, whispering, wind? Or…? And where was outside? What was outside? Who? What time was it, anyway? Time to move, time to get up. So she did. Knee’s creaking, ‘grandma again, what a weird dream I’m having’ she giggled softly. But no. Not a dream. Dreams don’t scrape your knees od gnaw through ropes. I’d never dream that. So action! There must be a door somewhere, probably locked. Feeling her way around, stumbling, softly cursing and finally, finally crying a little, she found what seemed like the bottom of some stairs. ‘The only way is up. Here we go.’ After three steps she bumped into a door, felt for the doorhandle and of course, the door opened soundlessly. Whew. Or not, what’s on the other side?

 

First, she listened for voices. Nothing. Or? No. Imagination, it must be. Then she looked for the smell of food. Food! Hunger now, yes, definitely. And thirst, bloody hell where’s the kitchen? ‘All houses are the same’, she remembered. Little boxes on the hill side; the melody of a song welling up. She repressed the urge to start humming. Better be quiet and keep hidden. Shhh now. She walked through a long corridor with a green, rubbery floor. ‘Hospital’ she thought, but no. Hospitals smell differently. Bathroom on the left, living room on the right, kitchen second left. Right. Of course. Still no movement, no voices. It feels safe, she thought bewildered. Who wakes up in a cold cellar, obviously formerly imprisoned and only freed thanks to the mice and feels safe? Perhaps this is a madhouse and I am utterly, totally unhinged. Well, waking up like this, I’ll allow myself a little craziness, let’s go find food.

 

Wasn’t she supposed to hear at least something, though? The cat screaming for attention and food? People outside, birds, whatever? It was quiet, too quiet. And no-one had left any of the lights on, strange. Maybe they finally learned their lessons, but how likely was that?!

 

Ah I smell. Let’s get changed, and maybe a little wash. Bedroom En Suite, how posh. But nice, so nice. So she opened her bedroom door, and Empty. Howlingly, despairingly empty. This was not right. Something is wrong. WHERE IS EVERYONE? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?! She sank to her knees, and the floor is hard. Rough, a little damp. It hurt. This hás to be a dream. Where is everybody? “Hello?” first a whisper, then a scream echoing through what must be an empty house. Where’s my bed? Who took it? Where are all my clothes, my beautiful dress? Grandma’s necklace, so prettily sparkling? And why are those wretched bloody curtains still closed? How many times do I have to tell him to open the curtains in the morning, so stuffy disgusting and WHAT?!

 

How could that be?

I know I wanted peace and quiet, but this?

This múst be a dream. How could it be anything else?

Where the hell was she?

Where was - who took their car?

Who took all the cars?

Who took all the bloody cars?!

 

She stood there for a long time, just looking. It was raining, slowly and sofly. Grey grey grey, the weather that she professed to hate but secretly loved. Soft, nourishing rain, cool but not aggressive. Aggressive rain may be good for the crops, but it stung. The crops!! Oh my God the crops!

 

The fields were empty. Desperately empty, like only harvested fields can be in the middle of October. Even the corn was gone. Bald, sharp spikes were sticking out of the fat shiny earth. When did this happen? Who harvested? Where was everyone? She couldn’t be all alone, could she? That would not, could not – this must be a dream and now I want to wake up. I’m hungry, I want to eat and I want my bed afterwards and wake up and get up and prepare sandwiches for the kids! She ran back to the house.

 

But, if all the crops are in, where are they? She slowly opened the impressive doors, almost afraid to look. She took her time. The cat flew out when the doors were only slightly opened. It scared her, though she didn’t know why. Well, at least I’m not all alone. The barn was full. She knew there to be grain, corn and some potatoes. Enough to last the winter, in any case. This was a relieve. She shuffled inside. Somehow she knew that bold steps would not be appreciated. Humility would. Be humble when you enter the Halls of the Kings. Be grateful. Remember the mice, and respect, esteem, honour. Yes, yes! Honour the mice. Walking up to the granary she wondered what on earth she was doing, and then suddenly she doubted whether this was even earth. Maybe not, but anyhow, something, a voive, an instinct told her to ‘Feed them!, so she opened the grain tank and watched all that edible gold slowly pour out over the floor, filling corners and slowly forming a thick carpet of what one day should have become bread. Human food, now contaminated, good only for vermin. No! Not vermin, mice! Honour the mice! She regarded the floors, the spilled grain, and suddenly became very scared. What am I turning into? Who am I becoming? What is GOING ON! Sshhh softly now… carefully. Walking backwards, she left as silently as she’d arrived. Humbly, humbly. Quickly back to the safety of her house, her kitchen, her domain where humility was not a requirement.

 

There, on the kitchen table, lay her diary. ‘I wish, oh I wish that for one hour in my life everyone would just shut the fuck up and leave me alone. Oh to be the only human being on an alien planet without aliens. No-one needing me, no-one calling for me, no-one expecting anything of me! Please oh please if there’s a God, any God at all  … give me some peace!’ Something started to dawn. ‘Oh wow’, she thought. ‘Lucky thing I only asked for one hour, and not for the rest of my life!’. Already she could hear someone tossing a bicycle on the concrete outside, an new bicycle, mind you, then running footsteps and ‘Mum!!! Mummy!!!’ What a wonderful sound. She put het dairy down and laughed at what she wrote. Shaking her head and cynically reading her heartfelt plea aloud one last time, she. Her vision narrowing, darkening, dizzily, slowly sinking. And only after a seemingly unlimited time, a soft light, a clearing of thoughts, and

 

How the hell did I get here?