Flash Fiction Anthology

Veronica

The birds singing in the crown of the huge oak tree that filled the handkerchief-size garden spreading beyond the window of the bedroom nearly entirely woke her, as always, before her alarm rang.

She switched it off before it would wake up the children-- the baby, Alice, still slept deeply in her cot, but the toddler, Hanna, and the seven-year-old Eric were already stirring in their beds, which were set in the large bedroom around her own. The drill of everyday life, where no one could really decide to escape their daily routine, already left its imprint on their young minds; they would soon wake up with the thought of having to go to the nursery and the primary school. Just like Milan had gotten up without waking any of them hours ago, as usual, to go to work, she mused as her eyes fell on his side of the bed, empty and cold.

Veronica turned around and stared through the window at the world outside, where the light and colours of a new day had already begun to seep into the blackness of the night. Careful not to make any noise, she relished the last minutes before the first of the children would wake up. Then her work would start-- changing nappies, preparing breakfast, getting the little ones dressed and drive them to school, rushing back home to clean and cook and change more nappies, picking the kids up later, feeding them lunch and taking them to the playground to make them socialise with their friends before bringing them back home, bathing them, cooking dinner and taking them to bed, one after another, before washing the dishes and starting the washing machine while waiting for Milan to call her, most likely, only to inform her that he would be late and she needn't wait for him, either because he was too busy at work or he couldn't refuse an invitation for a drink with one colleague or another.

Then she would leave him a plate with his meal in the kitchen, a clean set of clothes for the following day on the chair standing next to their bed, and go to sleep, too exhausted to really feel sorry for herself.

Marrying a man she loved at the age of eighteen had been her dream. It had been wonderful at the beginning; her first child was born even before most of her ex-classmates started dating seriously. It was still cool when the second one followed a few years later... But then, her dream life started to feel like work, nonstop work without a break, without one free moment which she could spend on herself. It got worse when the last one was born five months ago, and now she and Milan had no time or mind for each other anylonger, everything revolved around their routine, which circled around the children and their needs-- a situation to which Milan responded by coming home always later, when they were all asleep.

Slowly, in front or her very eyes, Veronica's dream started to morph into a disaster and she didn't know how to change it, how to take her marriage back to that happy place where it had been less than ten years ago. She loved her children, all three of them, and there was still love between her and Milan, changed and hidden under the layers of dust growing thicker as the days passed, but it was there... If only she had any strength left to look for it, bring it to the surface and make it shine again... But right now, at this point in her life, she felt too tired. It didn't seem worthwhile. Nothing did, lately.

Why did she even bother to climb out of the bed every morning? What would happen if, for once, she didn't get up to attend to everything she had to do? Would anyone notice? Maybe, if Milan didn't find his dinner on the table, he might realise that something was wrong. But nothing would happen if the kids didn't turn up at school once...

She smiled, the smile morphing into a yawn, and Veronica closed her eyes. It wouldn't do. She couldn't afford to sleep the whole day, but she would not let anyone take the last ten minutes in bed from her.

The chirping of birds seemed louder than ever that morning, and as she listened, eyes closed, forehead wrinkled in annoyance, she realised that she could also hear the sound of water somewhere. Groaning, she forced herself to sit up on the bed, angry with Milan, for leaving the tap running in the bathroom.