Tiny Stories

I’ve woken early, and before I let the cat into our room, I lie there wondering. What would make me change my mind? There’s a message from a connection on LinkedIn, asking me to join him for a Zoom. Not another person persuading me to buy something I don’t want or need, I moan silently to myself. But I pause: there’s something about the message that resonates, that piques my interest. The cat is in. She stands on my hair, paws my pillow, and purrs loudly. She’s a creature of habit, and 4:30 is time to get up and moving. Other habits – the way she eats her food, responds to toddlers, snuggles in at night - are a part of who she is, this ball of fluff who chose us nearly 17 years ago. Like her, I’m a creature of habit. Coffee (hot and sweet) and toast (homemade nut butter), Wordle (share it with my friend), before the day begins proper. But sitting here this morning, I wonder what it would take to change my mind, to persuade me to try something different. Do I listen to reason, or am

  There’s one small, cheap bedside unit, its handle replaced with copper buttons, giving it a vintage look. As I move it - and me - to the other side of the bed, I wonder why it’s taken me a year to try another position. And yet my sleep is tormented. Outside, heavy rain soaks the already sodden ground, the incessant sound keeping me awake. I’m hot, I’m cold, I’m dozing, I’m alert. What is it about this side that’s so different to the other? I can’t say I’m new anymore: 12 months have passed since I moved south, away from the madness and excitement that’s Auckland. The buzz of the metropolis, crazy drivers who own the road, endless restaurants and Two Dollar shops in the burbs. I miss my son, I miss my friends, I miss Pride, and the colours of the rainbow. Thank goodness for Auckland Libraries online catalogue. “The Gift” is open on my tablet, and also “Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science & Sex.” These days, I’m not compelled to finish books, or even to read every word. I s