Morning all. I hope your morning is going well. I woke up to find that my chicken wire defense of my low planting bed was working well. We have a problem with feral cats in the neighborhood. They like using my planting bed as a litter box. The chicken wire is just high enough that the can’t comfortably jump it, or at least none of them have been seen doing so and because of the height and the fact that it is supported at the corners and secured very loosely, the chicken wire is too wobbly for them to feel comfortable climbing. I watched as one of them tried and was repulsed by the wobble, giving up before he could enter the planting beds and destroy the plants there. As the chicken wire is a bit of a pain, I am glad it is at least working. So I felt vindicated this morning. Not a bad way to start the day. But for now, we have a prompt to get into. So timers set and off we go.
I like this set up. I need to think about a few details. I also need to decide if Edgar is going to be poisoned or if he is going to be upset at the theft of his chocolates. I think I may let it marinate in my brain until lunch time and then decide.
Tuesday, June 3rd: The chocolate box was open.
The chocolate box was open. I don’t know why that detail stood out. There were other more important things going on, but somehow, it clicked in my brain. I think it might have been because Edgar was always so meticulously persnickety about his chocolates. He ordered them especially for himself and he did not share.
They were from a specialty company and he chose each one individually. There were no random chocolates in his box that he may not like. Each one was a hand crafted gem and chosen because he enjoyed the flavors. When he ate his chocolates it was as much a ritual as anything else.
At precisely quarter til two every afternoon he went into the kitchen and used the equipment there to make himself a cappuccino. He used his designated coffee beans and specially purchased milk. Both were labeled and unavailable for anyone else use. He fixed his cup and tidied the machinery. The machinery was for the entire house to use and as such didn’t receive as much care. Often anyone using it after Edgar would have to clean it again as his cleansing was cursory. He assumed someone else would take care of it for him. His cleaning was barely a quick wipe of the dish cloth over the machine so there were no drips. The towel, usually stained or soon to smell of soured milk, would be balled up and left on the counter. Again for someone else to deal with.
The coffee now fixed, Edgar would retreat to his office, take out his box of chocolates and make the afternoon’s selection. As it took two days to ship his order, Edgar placed an order for a new box when there were only three chocolates left in the box. After the selection was made, the box was put away. It was never left out.
Yet today when Edgar asked me to meet with him in his office, the box was not only out, but left open. It was half past four and I had just spent the last stretch of time cleaning the machinery in the kitchen. Not only had Edgar left his customary mess but there had been several other people using the kitchen for various things leaving their own destruction behind. Unable to simply leave it, I loaded the dishwasher, wiped down the counter and cleaned the machine, chucking the soaking and stained dishtowel into the washing machine. I then made my own coffee and recleaned the machine. I managed to drink my coffee and settle myself, washing out my cup because I couldn’t leave a dirty cup in the now cleaned kitchen.
It wasn’t what I planned to do with the time, but I knew it would bother me. I also knew the others knew it would bother me which is why they left it in that state. They knew I was coming in to meet with Edgar. They knew I would clean up. It was becoming a sadly routine occurrence and I was becoming rather sick of it.
Ten til Midnight 