A Work In Progress

The wind grazed Dania’s face as her feet slammed ever harder on the wet pavement. With a heavy and deep sign she removed the key to her house from her pocket and entered. From head to toe water ran off of Dania, but she didn’t care anymore, she was home. She had rescued herself from the hellish darkness of the outside downpour. This self-rescue was more than she could say for her brother who had been in rehab for three years, but nonetheless she was grateful to be home. Today officially started her weeklong purge of schoolwork known as spring break, which always culminated in a late Sunday the day before returning, but that was a discussion for another time, today was hers.
After peeling off her soaked clothes and changing into a comfortable navy blue sweat suit entire she proceeded to go downstairs and create her first of many Spring Break snacks. Peanut butter and fluff seemed to be her fancy this particular afternoon and she glopped on the fluff and peanut butter onto two pieces of “Wonderbread.” She tour her teeth into this delicacy and washed in down with 7 UP. Realizing she had no quizzes to cram for or homework to complete she retreated into the family room of her home for some much deserved downtime with Mr. TV. After flipping around the several channels available on Diana’s television she settled on MTV and quickly feel asleep watching the millionth and one season of the “Real World”.
As Diana peacefully slept on her couch she knew nothing of the events that would unfold over the course of her spring break, and nor would she care to. She was prostrate on her couch with a blissful grin upon her face. All her worries, stress, and anxiety were no long with her. Thoughts such as, “Will I get a 96 or 97 this marking period” were void from her person. All she could dream of was a perfect spring break accompanied with friends, fun, food, and family. Her brother would be returning to their family in three days, and her excitement was noticeable in the corners of exalted grin.
Tammy, her friendly, furry, and not so stress relieving feline awoke her from her cat nap after what seemed like no time, but Diana realized that two hours of nothing had passed, and her spring break was now down to 190 hours left. With a huge yawn she slumped over to the cordless phone and dialed her father’s work number. “Kooltzman and Company,” said the pleasant secretary name Joyce. “Hi Joyce, its Diana. May I please speak to my dad?” “Of course, I’ll put you right through.” “Thanks Joyce” Diana always had a special relationship with her father’s secretaries. To Diana it appeared as though they knew what it must be like living with her father, because, they knew how he was a work.
“Hi Sweetie, how are you?” Her fathers deep and powerful voice disturbed Diana from her brief period of thought. “Great, dad. Just one question, how late are you going to be tonight?” “Who can say?” replied in father in his soothing fatherly voice. “Alright, thanks dad, see you tonight.” “One could only hope.”
Typical Friday night, her father would have to work late, and her mother was off to a conference in Las Vegas for the week, but even if she was home she wouldn’t be able to do anything but work. This is how Diana spent most of her nights, listening to the echoes in chamber of her mind. None of this really fazed her now, and she dialed Mary’s number without a second thought. The Francis’ answering machine picked up and Diana did not want to leave a message, so he hung up the phone.
Diana came to finally realize that she wouldn’t be doing anything tonight, and her mind began to flout to thoughts of what her classmates might be doing on this gloomy and sullen night. Specifically, she turned her thoughts to what Alex was doing tonight. Who was he enchanting now with his brilliant smile, perfect, face, and loving personality? Who else was under his spell tonight, where was he, and what was he doing? Whatever it was it must have been better than curled up in a ball of blankets reading Insert title her.
Chapter seventeen must not have been that interesting, because the next morning she woke up in the same position that she went to bed in. Nothing in her room had changed except the heavenly yellow glow of sunlight that was emanating from her window. Feeling achy and miserable from a poor nights sleep, she got out of her bed and immediately headed for the bathroom. In a sleepy haze, Diana turned on the bathtub and ran the hot water until the tub was almost three-fourths filled with steamy water, the kind that would assuage last night’s sleep. As she lay in the tub, the water surrounded her fragile self and her ever-buoyant body felt in complete nirvana as she remained in that semi-conscious stage between being asleep and awake. She wiggled her toes for the sheer pleasure of the warm water’s feel in the crevasses of her feet. Her ever-rosy face perked up as she heard her father rummaging around in the kitchen, probably preparing breakfast and reading the financial papers. Nonetheless, she was in a blissful state of ecstasy that only occurs thanks to the cheerfulness of the ever mundane events that, when one has time to appreciate them, are the sole source of joy and hast in life.
After half and hour in the tub, the water began to acquire a brownish tint that was characteristic of dirty what and told the bather that it was time to leave the tub. Diana got changed quickly and bopped down the stairs to met her father, whom she had not seen for a significant amount of time during the course of the week. His warm embrace was so close yet distant that Diana felt like a toddler in the arms of her father. Looking at the time, he asked, “Do you want breakfast?” “Of course,” was always her reply. “What can I have?” “Anything you want” her father stated in a defiantly fatherly tone. “How about French Toast?” “Coming right up!”
While the French Toast was being made, Diana flipped through the papers with little interest and made mild chitchat with her father about work and school. As boring and humdrum as her Saturday mornings were, Diana looked forward to them every week. Herself, her mom, and her father (except this weekend mom was out) would sit around the kitchen table just chatting the morning away, and, usually, Diana would convince them into doing something besides working or reading later that day.
The French Toast arrived and Diana poured the Log Cabin maple syrup onto the French Toast in what became a forest of syrup with white butter snowflakes covering parts of it. The image was truly beautiful. The shapes and swirls of the butter as it slowly melt into the syrup could never be recreated, but were there only for the viewer to enjoy for the time being and then enjoy the next configuration of twist, loops, and curves that would appear on the plate.