Quite Unremarkable

Emma Green was the type of girl, nothing weird ever happened to, and it was highly unlikely anything ever would. Not that she was dissatisfied by this. Quite the opposite in fact. She was perfectly happy to live life without frightening adventures or weird happenings.

Yes, she decided as she stirred her morning coffee, shifting through the Sunday Newspaper. Life was quite satisfying just the way it was.

Taking a sip, she enjoyed the warm, sweet taste of the tea, completely engrossed in an article about a woman, who’d given birth to triplets for the third time. How stressful.

Finishing her newspaper in peace she decided that today would quite certainly prove to be a good day. Perhaps a walk through town would be in order. It would be such a shame to waste such good weather. Not a cloud in the sky and the sun was shining brilliantly, despite the fact that they had just entered October. Yes, a walk would do her good.

The neighbour’s three sons apparently agreed with her assessment of the weather, completely absorbed in whatever they were playing. As usual it was the oldest, Oliver, who was clearly in charge, while Thomas did his best to keep up and little Daniel, no more than three, was staring at his older brothers in admiration. It was nice to see children playing outside, Emma thought. It would do them a world better than being stuck in front of the television.

Waving, she considered buying them a little something while in town. Something they could play with while outside. Wrapped up in these considerations she only took a moment to casually admire the flowers peeping forth around her. Daisies, dandelions and snowdrops. She always had liked daisies. Perhaps she should pick some when she got back. They would help freshen up the house. Though perhaps some curtains would help as well. Maybe orange or yellow. A happy colour.

The town that she lived nearby was a happy, quite place, the exact place to live for someone like Emma, who didn’t enjoy too much buzzing or hurrying. She greeted the butcher with a cheerful wave, exchanged greetings with Mrs. Harrison and helped a blind man cross the street.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told her, smiling with what few teeth he had left. “It’s nice to see there are still good people out there. And what a pretty girl you are. My daughter had hair the exact same colour as you, you know. Hair as flames. Such a beautiful colour.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling, still making her mind up between orange and yellow. Orange was a nice colour. A last parting smile and she left the man behind.

Quickly buying her fabric, she made her way to the book store. Perhaps they had a new historical novel for her. She did enjoy those. Unusually cheery she greeted everyone she passed with a quick smile. It was such a beautiful day.

“Careful, dear,” an old lady said as she walked by. “Wouldn’t want to get hurt, would we? Fire hurts after all. Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” she answered automatically, not registering the words. “You too.”

Browsing the book store she was disappointed to find nothing new had arrived. Picking the books out of the bookcase at random, she still tried to see if any of the old books could catch her interest. Moby Dick? Far too adventurous. She’d prefer something with a little less excitement, thank you very much. Taking a step backwards she swore softly as she stepped directly into a puddle behind her. Great. Just great. Was the ceiling leaking?

Determined not to let it ruin her nice day, she reminded herself it was nothing but a small inconvenience, repeating the words when she cut herself on the next book; a retelling of Snow White. Examining the wound on her finger, she watched as three drops of blood dripped onto the white flooring of the book store. Licking the wound clean, she put the book back in its place. She wasn’t one for fairy tales or fables, anyway.

Most other books were discarded for the same reason. A book called The Witch’s Curse hardly even got a glance. Like the title wasn’t enough there was a cat on the cover wearing glasses. Too strange.

Giving up she turned around only to find her way blocked by a black cat. Trying to pet it, she merely shrugged as it hissed at her advances. Spoiled cat, she decided as she gave it a puff away with the tip of her shoe. And not particularly pretty either with the rectangular markings around its eyes. But she wasn’t one to let one spoiled cat ruin her day. The sun was still shining, and she still had unread books standing on her bedside table.

Trying to decide which one to read first, she hardly even noticed the people around her as she made her way through the town. Maybe she would walk home through the forest. That would be a nice change of scenery if nothing else.

This decision was quickly regretted when it started to pour down.

“Raining cats and dogs, ain’t it? But what are you gonna do except to hurry home?” A man yelled humorously as he passed her in the opposite direction. Giving a quick smile, showing him that she completely agreed with him as she ran through the forest, looking forward to the warmth and dryness of her cosy little kitchen.

Passing a German shepherd she wondered where it’s owner were, but the dog ran away before she could even think to check for a collar. Whoever the owner was, he was probably also the owner of the two dalmatians she passed and the litter of little brown labradors. How odd. Far more understandable was the cats she passed on her way, brown, orange, black, white and every combination thereof. She’d never noticed there was so many straying cats in her neighbourhood. Contemplating this, she stopped noticing the cats and dogs, only increasing in numbers around her nor the purple puddles she ran through. She merely noticed that her shoes got wet.

Finally making her way home, she gave a tired wave to the neighbour’s three children, Oliver, Thomas and little, sweet Daniella. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it had come, but that didn’t change the fact that she was soaking wet and shivering with cold. Letting herself in, she abandoned her wet clothes on the kitchen floor and changed into the fluffiest pair of pyjamas she could find, complete with pictures of little white bunnies. A cup of tea would be just perfect right about now.

Heating the water on her old-fashioned stove, she was busy in her mind doing the grocery list for tomorrow. Perhaps she should have just gotten them, when she was in town today anyway, but she always bought her groceries on Mondays.

“Ouch,” she exclaimed suddenly, burning herself on the stove. Quickly wrapping a wet towel around her hand, which had started to throb, she turned down the gas so the flames didn’t reach as high.

Pushing the accident out of her mind, she deemed the water hot enough and went to her bedroom to fetch a book. To her amusement, she didn’t only find her book, but also a white bunny, staring at her with black eyes.

“Where did you come from, little fellow?” She asked it gently, trying not to scare it. “Tried to find shelter for the rain, did you?”

Smiling at the idea that the bunny would answer her back, her smile only grew when she got to the kitchen and saw that the bunny had brought its family. Knowing it would be futile to try and pet them, she merely got her cup of tea, swearing softly when she spilled on her plain, blue pyjamas. Quickly making a round to the bedroom in order to change, she didn’t notice that the bunny apparently hadn’t only brought its family, but also four of its best friend.

Sitting herself in her favourite chair in the kitchen, she let herself be consumed with the story before her. Realistic, believable and feasible. As she preferred.

She didn’t notice when the bunny’s four friends turned to fourteen. Or when those fourteen turned to forty, as bunny after bunny invaded her little house. Once in a while she noticed a blur of white fur at the corner of her eye, but assumed it was one of the three bunnies she had already made herself acquainted with.

Nor did she notice it, when those forty bunnies turned to two hundred, almost covering every little surface of her little house. She merely noticed herself growing hungry and when she decided it was time to dinner and closed the book, there was not a single bunny left in her house.

Though it is questionable if she would have noticed it, even if there was.

Cooking dinner, she decided she had been right this morning, thinking it would be a good day, despite the misfortune of being caught in the rain.

It had been quite a nice, unremarkable day. A trip to the book store, a walk through the forest, getting caught in the rain. Unremarkable. Which was, of course, only to expected.

After all; then Emma Green was the type of girl, nothing weird ever happened to, and it was highly unlikely anything ever would.

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