E M Parrott

Lock in a thick, brick wall

Again, I found myself standing in my pyjamas on a Saturday morning staring at the brick wall. My eyes were still squinted, yearning for their prior state of sleep but I knew that today was the day. Today had to be the day. There would be no going back to bed this morning. I headed downstairs to the kitchen and flicked the switch on the kettle, pouring a heaped spoonful of coffee in the cafetiere and putting two slices of bread in the toaster. As I waited for the morning machines to fulfil their purposes, I looked around at the half painted kitchen and semi-built flat pack table. I should be getting on with putting the rest of my new house together, I thought but for some reason the only thing my mind could focus on was the lock in the thick brick wall of my new bedroom.