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Notes06/15/2021
Tofuwachtel
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Tofuwachtel
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41
Determined announcement
The certificate of inheritance had been sent to her weeks ago. It had taken a very long time until she could be located. Now the lawyer had given her the keys.
During the drive to the house she hung on to her thoughts. Dorothea. Never had she heard that name from her mother, never known she had an aunt until the inheritance notice. I wonder why the sisters had become so divided. - Neither of them she could ask anymore.
For a time she stood outside the ramshackle garden door, gazing into the overgrown front garden, at the entrance front covered in greenery. Three steps, thick with moss, led to the entrance.
The door creaked a little, then she stood in the hallway. White floor tiles, half-tiled white. Cool, fresh, and a slight chill ran through her. A light haze hung in the air.
A neighbor had been checking on everything from time to time, airing out, turning the faucets on and off. In the living room, the furniture was covered with white sheets. The pale green sheer curtains, embroidered with small white flowers and roses, were drawn. Hesitantly, she pulled the fabric aside. Took, off the couch covered in almost the same pattern, the sheets.
Bright light flooded the room as she pulled open the top drawer of the dresser. Soap. The whole drawer full. A soft soapy mist quickly spread through the room.
In the next, an old photo album. Black and white photographs. Lovingly recolored by hand. Siblings. Immediately she recognized her mother. Next to them, unmistakable resemblance, her aunt. Both young women, both peach-skinned, both dull soft red lips, both holding a small bouquet of flowers entwined with greenery.
She continued to look around. Pulled off the white cloths everywhere now. She liked the scattered softwood furniture in the rooms, with its almost Bauhaus style. Gave everywhere a certain, fine warmth. Especially the small honey-brown secretary. Though she definitely still found it soothingly fresh.
Pictures in brushed silver frames that shimmered delicately metallic where a bright beam of light hit them. Her aunt seemed to have loved Impressionists. Especially the subjects of Monet with his still lifes of fruit and flowers. But also Pissarro and his green landscapes. All as chalk drawings, all with her aunt's signature.
The garden was small and wildly enchanted. The spicy herbage stood knee-high in some corners. And even the shady terrace was overgrown with soft moss. She liked it very much.
Closing her eyes just for a moment...... When she awoke, the sun was already low and almost a little creamy yellow, its rays were falling through the windows.
A fine breeze of soap still hung in the room, and though the sun had warmed the rooms, she still felt a bit of that soothing cool freshness. Once more she walked through the little house. Her mind was made up. There was nothing stopping her on the other side of the world. A reach for her cell phone. "Yeah, right. The appointment for tomorrow has gone. I'm withdrawing the order, I'm not selling ....."
During the drive to the house she hung on to her thoughts. Dorothea. Never had she heard that name from her mother, never known she had an aunt until the inheritance notice. I wonder why the sisters had become so divided. - Neither of them she could ask anymore.
For a time she stood outside the ramshackle garden door, gazing into the overgrown front garden, at the entrance front covered in greenery. Three steps, thick with moss, led to the entrance.
The door creaked a little, then she stood in the hallway. White floor tiles, half-tiled white. Cool, fresh, and a slight chill ran through her. A light haze hung in the air.
A neighbor had been checking on everything from time to time, airing out, turning the faucets on and off. In the living room, the furniture was covered with white sheets. The pale green sheer curtains, embroidered with small white flowers and roses, were drawn. Hesitantly, she pulled the fabric aside. Took, off the couch covered in almost the same pattern, the sheets.
Bright light flooded the room as she pulled open the top drawer of the dresser. Soap. The whole drawer full. A soft soapy mist quickly spread through the room.
In the next, an old photo album. Black and white photographs. Lovingly recolored by hand. Siblings. Immediately she recognized her mother. Next to them, unmistakable resemblance, her aunt. Both young women, both peach-skinned, both dull soft red lips, both holding a small bouquet of flowers entwined with greenery.
She continued to look around. Pulled off the white cloths everywhere now. She liked the scattered softwood furniture in the rooms, with its almost Bauhaus style. Gave everywhere a certain, fine warmth. Especially the small honey-brown secretary. Though she definitely still found it soothingly fresh.
Pictures in brushed silver frames that shimmered delicately metallic where a bright beam of light hit them. Her aunt seemed to have loved Impressionists. Especially the subjects of Monet with his still lifes of fruit and flowers. But also Pissarro and his green landscapes. All as chalk drawings, all with her aunt's signature.
The garden was small and wildly enchanted. The spicy herbage stood knee-high in some corners. And even the shady terrace was overgrown with soft moss. She liked it very much.
Closing her eyes just for a moment...... When she awoke, the sun was already low and almost a little creamy yellow, its rays were falling through the windows.
A fine breeze of soap still hung in the room, and though the sun had warmed the rooms, she still felt a bit of that soothing cool freshness. Once more she walked through the little house. Her mind was made up. There was nothing stopping her on the other side of the world. A reach for her cell phone. "Yeah, right. The appointment for tomorrow has gone. I'm withdrawing the order, I'm not selling ....."
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