Some people in life are such interesting creatures that their life seems almost as if it’s not real. How they live their life to how they spend their holidays, everything seems mysterious, interesting and frankly, too out of normal people’s league. That was how some people looked at Hester’s life.
Hester McLeod. A twenty-five year old, Art History graduate, and a absolute fan of eating. She did not belong to an affluent family, nor did she have any ‘kind’ relative that would dole out money as needed, however, she did have everything in life at the moment. Her friends sometimes wondered at that, yes, Hester was a hard-worker who had never stopped studying for a bit of unnecessary fun but she wasn’t exactly the kind of person who would hole up in her room and study the years away. It remained a mystery how she managed to graduate, get a job at one of the best museums for over two years and now, she was on the way to Italy for another museum job.
What captivated everyone was that Hester never seemed unruffled. Ever.
How wrong everyone was in their dreams of her perfect job, Hester thought as she came back from her night out with her friends. They had managed to get drunk within two hours of their hanging out, not a big surprise but this time, her friends had managed to get into a heated discussion about her. Of all the people Hester knew, she knew she wasn’t the most interesting but perhaps because she was leaving for Italy, they thought to include her in their musings.
What came out of that little discussion was fascinating and a tad unbelievable. Hester had thought she was a normal enough girl who had some casual friends, she worked hard, she played as much as she wanted to and she was absolutely in love with her job at the museum. Her lack of open nature had made it possible for her friends to dream up things she hadn’t even been aware of. Like the fact that apparently, she was too cool for them which is why she sometimes ditched them, she had disabused them of the notion immediately. Inwardly she had been horrified, is that what I look like to people? To my own friends? That I am too haughty to get down and fun with my own friends?
She put the clutch in it’s place and sighed. Removing her earrings, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Hazel eyes, pale face framed by dark brown hair looked back at her, there was colour in her cheeks due to the alcohol but overall, she didn’t think she looked like one of those mysterious women. Her black and blue fit and flare dress looked ordinary enough to her, she had worn it many times before. She just didn’t understand where her friends’ opinion came from, after school, she had tried to be more open and friendly. It seemed she hadn’t quite succeeded after all.
Looking around, she saw most of her life packed into boxes. Her flat seemed almost bare except for the furniture and fixtures that had come with the flat itself. Her mum had cried over the phone, her dad had been gruff with tears in his voice. Her brother had fucked off to France to be with his girlfriend of the month. She was going to miss them all, even Oliver the dingus. He couldn’t be bothered to be here to see her off, his girlfriend was apparently more important to him than his sister. She wrinkled her nose, her reflection doing the same.
Finally, she changed out of her clothes into pajamas and settled in for the night, with a book in hand, her night light on. The open window giving the room more light as cars passed her street. Well, true or not, apparently, I am mysterious and that’s not too bad. She soon got lost in her latest book, leaving the worries of her new job, her friends’ opinions and everything else behind.
The sound of cars speeding, the occasional horn of someone who was in too much hurry and the sounds from the flat above and beneath her own flat were as soothing as those meditation and soothing sounds that some of her friends enjoyed.
She wasn’t an enigma, she just hadn’t managed to open up to the world as much as she had hoped for.
bookwormmuse 