As I Had My Morning Coffee

The woman looked out the window which faced the next row of townhouses. It wasn't much of a view most days, but this morning she was transfixed by the giant caterpillar crawling up the brick wall in front of her.

It was the biggest one she'd ever seen, and it was so puzzling that it would be crawling around on the side of a house. As she sipped her steaming coffee, she wondered to herself about the brain inside of the black, fuzzy worm. Was it hiding because of the drizzle? Normally, wouldn't a bug hang around on the sidewalk rather than scaling the side of a house?

Her doorbell rang, and she startled, taking her eyes off the wall finally. Why hadn't she seen anyone walk up? She would have seen them, whichever side they came from. Her window was right beside the front door. Could she have missed seeing the movement in her distraction?

Talking to people was, as usual, the last thing she wanted to do. Oh, she would watch them, but talk? No thank you. Anyway, she wasn't expecting any visitors, and certainly wouldn't have invited anyone. So she opened the app on her phone that records the activity in front of her door through a mounted camera.

The latest recording had been taken over an hour ago when she had left through the front door to bring the trash bins in. But that didn't make sense. Delivery drones always send a text that they've dropped something off for you. That's the law. Yet there was no footage of one arriving either. She stood from her chair in the kitchen and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole. Only her steps and the brick wall of the house adjacent sat on the other side.

Slowly and cautiously, she opened the door and peered out. Nothing. Just as she was about to shut the door again, she looked down and saw a small purple box with a silver bow wrapped around it. She didn't really want to open the screen door and let in the chill, but she couldn't leave the unexpected package out either. It was still drizzling, and who knows what's inside it? It might get damaged.

She kneeled down and opened the screen door, pulling the package inside and wiping the wetness from it onto her shirt. After locking the door, she returned to her place at the table, setting the box in front of her and looking back at the brick wall to check the progress of the caterpillar, but it was gone. She had only been gone a moment, but perhaps in that time it had fallen, or decided to speed up and turn the corner.

Holding the package in her hands, she brought it to her ear and shook it a little, listening. There was a slight tinkle inside, like something metallic was bouncing around. Her birthday was weeks ago, so it wouldn't make sense to be receiving something so late. But perhaps, earrings?

She set it on the window and gazed at the little box, at its tightly wrapped bow glittering in the sunlight. She sipped her coffee, which had gone a bit cold now, and stood to microwave it for half a minute.

The doorbell rang again, loud as a thunderclap, inside the house! She dropped her coffee at the sound and shook, the cup crashing to the floor and spilling all over her slippers. She trembled and looked at where the sound had originated from this time. The package.

Again it rang, and again, shaking the box. It almost pulsed with the sound, and she rushed to it, ripping the bow, nearly in tears from fright. What sort of a joke was this? She opened the lid and inside sat an image. Herself, looking in at herself, looking into the box. She couldn't believe her eyes. She lifted her hand and inside the box, she did the same. She turned around, and the other her did the same.

Her body was there, a version, a mirror. Clothing and all, every item in the kitchen, on the table. She had always felt she was being watched, had always watched everything around her with just as much diligence, not to be outdone. She would beat the world at its own game, yet the one thing she couldn't do was watch herself. And now she could. It was everything she ever wanted, and she would see everything she did from then on.