Being a woman in her thirties with nothing to spend her winter break aside from chores, really does get exhausting. Sometimes when the boredom gets the best of me, I look into Rosy's life. Rosy has been my neighbour for as long as I can remember. We have a lot in common, including the identical houses facing each other in the outskirts of town. At this point I know Rosy's routines like my own just from observing through the large window that she never bought curtains for, because of the recliner chair she put there.

So tonight as always, I make a cup of tea and make myself comfortable on my own similar recliner just as Rosy opens her door. She walks to her countertop to put down the full black bags she uses to do her weekly grocery refill every Wednesday, then off she goes to get her whistling kettle started for her evening tea. I look as she takes off her heels, shakes her head fondly as she picks up a man's pair of shoes that her high school sweetheart, Noah must have left when he went to work, then disappears in the direction of their bedroom.

When she reappears her hair is now covered in a flowery scarf, and she has ditched her dress in favour for sweats and a loose t-shirt. It is at times like this that she looks so happy and fulfilled, no makeup or fancy clothes and has a loving husband with whom she shares a beautiful home. There is a mindless bump to her step as she walks back to the groceries on the table to start placing them away and chopping up her vegetables "it saves me time when I'm cooking " she'd usually say. Then when all is done, she walks over to prepare her tea and resumes her position by the window to sip leisurely as she continues her read of the week.

Rosy has a beautiful smartphone she barely ever looks at. She and Noah communicate with cue cards when one wants to leave a message. She does not have any friends, and her relatives never call her. She never talks to her relatives, the last time she got in contact with them was the month they moved here as eloped newlyweds. But  today, what interrupts her reading time - instead of her husband's car tyres as he pulls into the driveway from work - is the loud screech of her cell phone as she goes to take another sip. The occurrence of this odd event perks my interest, and I focus on her features to take a read on what this call may be about. I really would like to say I have never seen Rosy anything but calm until today when her face changes from peaceful to confused to straight out panic. It takes the usually calm and collected woman exactly two minutes to jump, grab her keys and have her car speeding towards town leaving her front door wide open.

Rosy did not come back that day. What came back the following day was a police car, trailed by Rosy's car which was driven by a man resembling Noah so much it would've been odd for them to not be related. When the cars stopped the man carried out of the car, a breathing and walking, but somehow lifeless woman's body ,which was then dumped right at Rosy's favourite spot. From where I was sitting, I could see the bustle, the moving mouths, a giant wooden box being carried into the house, neighbours following and standing over the woman's body in the recliner shaking their heads, but I could not hear even a single word that was said. 

The activity continued for about a day more, could've been a few days, could've been a week, I really had lost track of time. The next thing I knew the lifeless woman was being helped into a black funeral home car. It seemed as if there was a funeral, but at that moment nothing could register in my head. Just like the few past days everything passed in a blur and then the woman was back at the window with vacant eyes, staring into the lonely night.

Time seemed to be going very slow, but still in a blur, and I just could not wait to see my husband again. I really hate when he goes out and doesn't call or come back late. I asked the woman who has been bringing me food for the past few days if he was still gone, and she nodded. I don't get why she hesitated first, I would have asked, but she quickly bowed her head and walked away. I turned back to Rosy's window wondering why the pet plant by her window had not sprouted its flowers yet. The Jacarandas have already painted the streets purple, her window should be a beautiful shade of pink and whites by now.

The next day, I woke up to the rising sun trying to fry my face, seems like I fell asleep in the window chair again. If I didn't stand up, my skin care routine would really just have been for nothing, and I'd be late for work. I got up and ran around my house trying to do the morning routine that I have been mastering for years since I moved into this house but still cannot do on time. I always tried to keep the showering and getting dressed process to a maximum of thirty minutes so I can have a few minutes for makeup and breakfast and get to work on time.

After the bathroom business, I hurriedly opened and closed the vanity drawers to gather my makeup ,and shouted my husbands name over my shoulder to ask him to get the kettle started. But when I went to fix my eyeliner, the eyes that stared back at me looked a lot like a pair I have been staring at in the window, and the dullness was too similar to have been from a separate pair. I forgot I really liked when my husband Noah called me by my middle name, Rosy .