He always said it would be nice to live in a small house on top of a hill. Somewhere in nature where no one would ever take us away from each other, distort our love, distort us.

Don’t you think golden leaves look better in the sun? Maybe that’s why God made autumn so rainy – it would be too beautiful.

The wind, as its contribution, makes the nature less still. Takes those brown leaves far away, shares them. It makes the oldest trees struggle and bend.

I looked closer at a pile of wet leaves intrigued what might be under it. I tried to take hold of my leg and kick the pile. Wet on the inside.

Kneeled and studied it.

It was an old stump eaten away by humidity. Once must have been a respectable tree; now only a mix of green and black. Some bug crawled out of a small crack in the wood and looked at me furiously. I should have better covered the stump back before listening to any complaints.

The way back home was unexpectedly endearing.

I saw a dandelion today in the front yard. The poor one must be lost. It’s already cold for him. I would be glad if he sent out some seeds, but he must be the only one in the whole town. Has to be the unwise of the group.

Arnie was waiting at the door and accidentally ripped off my wind spinner. Was getting rusty and yet I loved to look at the spiral taking seemingly endless rounds on stormy nights.

Never cook beef wellington with fish instead of beef.

I sat on the roof today. First time since summer. Would not say the weather was too appealing. I just wanted to have a go.

I forget how big the town looks from the outside. It seems so grouped, so stoic.

I should walk through the town before the real frost comes. Is there something different about the main street since last year? Left to wonder.

The chrysanthemums finished their bloom. It means the winter is going to be here before long. I will miss the flowers the most.

We argued with the cashier. Not the first time. She says, I misread the price tag. I am convinced that she is trying to diddle me. That old colorful witch.

Never buying the oranges ever again.

Decided to do a big clean up since the outdoors labor is over. I even got Arnie to help me move the bookshelf. I swear, I have never seen such a big clump of fur in my whole life. I thought that was a fat rat at first. Well, that is done now.

I went through all the cupboards, threw away some trash from the wardrobe, and got a nasty cut from a nail. Truly a productive day.

I intentionally avoided the office table. Some things should better stay a mystery.

There is this knife that I don’t know how to sharpen myself. If you saw it, you would understand. Another reason to visit the town.

There is some bad news. One of the books I rarely check got eaten by something. I cannot remind myself what Joe used for protection.

The kitchen windows are frozen. It was so nice opening them when the sun is only rising. To listen to the insects. I bet anything, this summer a cricket made himself a home under my patio.

I forgot about Rupert. I will go.

We buried him when the ice first took hold. Took a while to get a huge brick of frozen dirt loose. We threw him in and put the dirt back on top. I could hear his whole body crush. It was wrong, I know, but neither of us stopped. It was awful, but our awful.

The ground was visibly mushy there the whole summer. And it stank. Stank so much. Rot and dirty old dog.

It’s frozen again. I didn’t even save any flowers to put on the grave like I usually do.

Poor poor Rupert.

The attic is not heated. Anytime I go there in winter, thankfully not so much, I can see the tiny ice crystals stuck to the roof. Those that melt almost immediately under the smallest heat. They can exist only in this constant cold, far away from something remotely alive. Beautiful little game of dispersion. I wish I could sit there longer. A little shattered looking glass.

Today I was thinking what I should buy for spring. A bit too early to do this before New Year, isn’t it?

Arnie brought me a chocolate bar. Strawberry and mint. Told me he bought it for himself but had to share. Of course. A little boy buying himself mint chocolate. I should talk to his mother. She is too kind. The boy should not come. Especially if the weather is not sparing.

I looked through all of the books today. I won’t allow any nasty bugs to feast again. No damage I found, but there was some white dust on the bottom shelf. I will stop this.

I bought a toxin. Colorless dry gas. Filled everything there and sat in the living room for five hours. The chimney finds rare use, but my feet are thankful for such a pleasant heating. I was putting the leaves I gathered into new “masterpieces”. When Arnie comes, we should brainstorm names for them together.

A mid-winter warming. It happens naturally here at least a couple times throughout the season, and still feels special. Sometimes you expect the buds to swell, the lawn to green. But that would be unfair for winter. She just came.

Today Arnie arrived at 3 pm, crying. A huge cut on him arm. Was walking to my house and slipped on a frozen puddle. Of course, I disinfected the wound and put a good old bandage. But this won’t solve the situation.

“Arnie, you should stop coming to stay here for so long. I know your mom is worried, but you should be at home or with your friends”, something like that I said to him.

The boy looked at me with those sad little eyes. Maybe he thought I was scolding him for falling. Maybe everything I said was true, but he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable here.

And then I thought to make a new deal with him. If his mother sends him and he has to stay for me, then I can help the boy somehow as my side of our contract.

I thought about what I can give him. Not candies. Arnie’s mother would be furious. I don’t have any cool toys. There was an unlikely hypothesis I decided to check.

He does love books. Of course, Arnie is that kind of boys who love books.

Well, that I can give.

I told him about all the titles that we could read together. “A little girl and a giant fence”, “The boy who works in circus”, “A butterfly angel”, “The tale of a pea”, “White fuzzy man”, “The waters of Skyland”, “Islands of rubies” and many, many lesser.

By the time I showed him only a part of the collection, Arnie had to go. That’s how I found out he is supposed to stay for two hours at my house every week. He was mesmerized by the books though. It’s the originals too. I had at least three copies of each one. We can read all of them together.

Joe said he loved me, but I was never supposed to have a child. He said even the idea of me having a child was not comprehensible. I am not a mother, but maybe I can find common language with kids. Kind of a curse.

Today a piece of the roof fell off. I found only out through a temperature change. There is much more light in my attic now. I will have that fixed by the next snowfall, but the costs are wild. Although, I don’t want to turn into a snowwoman.

I am yearning for an indoor garden. I have to remind myself that I don’t have any room for that. Indoor flowers mostly don’t bloom in winter too which makes them useless. Winter is the time when my budget recovers from the warm expenses. Dammit.

I love to see the days getting longer. I forget they do.

The roof feels much better now. Looks uglier, but looks better. The worker was about 30 and very fit. What a nice man. I would love to talk to him a bit more.

Arnie came for this week’s term. I let him choose the book. “The boy who works in circus”. As expected.

We spent the two hours reading together. Soon, it turned into him asking the words or phrases he did not understand and me deciphering those. Joe loved frustratingly hellish wordings, so sometimes I have to come up with an explanation for something I would skip over myself.

Arnie likes the language though. He says it sounds mystique. We were able to get through a quarter of the book. Certainly, a work for the weeks to come.

He promised to tell me openly if he finds anything boring.

It was a full moon this week. I have not seen a full moon for very long. Not that I could not, I just barely notice it. I never stay late in the night too. This time I woke up at 3 am for some reason. The moon was so bright, but pale. It always is. It’s funny that even when it’s using someone else’s light, the moon can’t help but make it lifeless.

I keep staying up too late. Have not had this problem since I was a teen. I watch movies. The TV must be happy to get my attention once in a blue moon. The series is about a cleaner in a dorm, who is the same age as the students there. She gets into a relationship with a local bully. Another girl, Claris, is jealous and takes out anger on them. Closer to the finale, the director of the university finds out about the secret lovers.

What an amazing thing.

I had to describe to Arnie what “emphasize” means. That’s unexpectedly difficult.

Almost two years since you left me. I left your office untouched. I could not. The chair still smells like you. Something burning and cozy. You smelled like fall to me. Not only because we fell in love in fall. Something more. I think, I said everything possible after you died. Right now, I just want to say that I love you. I love you like a dog.

I ordered sushi. I did not even have some soy sauce. Just devoured everything with water and mayonnaise. It reminds me of my university. I ordered anything I could fit in my mouth. It was fantastic. I missed sushi the most. Maybe someday I will get to pizza?

I watched a documentary about UFOs. Grey aliens, green aliens, tentacles, black eyes, circles. Happy to see something stable. The tone of these did not change even a bit. You have to be on mushrooms or have zero knowledge of our history to even consider this real. The only difference is they use much more movie lexicon nowadays and the word “humanoid”.

Humanoid is such a ridiculous abomination. It’s like a human on steroids. “Humanoid”. My brother was like that. He would be very upset if I called him a humanoid. I would be too if I was him. I would not eat raw eggs if I was him though.

We finished the boy and the circus. Arnie was very honest about not understanding why the boy would ever return to his parents if the circus was so nice. After a long argument I gave up. Maybe he understands when he matures.

“Why not to live with your family in the circus instead?”, that’s what he said. This was the time I laughed the hardest since watching that dorm drama. Our Arnie is innovative. We started talking nonsense together.

If he ever took his family in a circus, he would ask the ringmaster for their own tent. They would sleep and eat there. And when the guests come, they would dance with their dog for ovations.

The boy certainly has never been in a real circus. Very silly.

This whole week was sunny. All seven days. The clouds are rare like little lambs hopping on a blue field from time to time. I don’t even need a chimney to keep my skin heated anymore. Well, serious heating is still needed.

I feel so glad to still feel fully healthy in my age. A few teeth troubles, but otherwise I’m the happiest person ever.

Someone fell under ice on a local lake. It’s scary that it just happens and never comes up again anywhere. The family lives with that. The friends live with that. But in my reality, he was nobody, so doesn’t get my attention. The moral of the story is RIP.

I had to change a lightbulb today. It feels weird to stand on chairs now.

Arnie could choose a new book. He is so eager to finish them all. “Islands of rubies”. This one will be much harder. Very metaphorical in everything – from the title to the order of the lines. Fully rhymed too.

“The boy who works in circus” was truly casual. But Arnie is still eager. The ending will be worth it. Kids liked the description of the shores.

The forest seems green from afar. I know, it’s the moss spreading thanks to the constant temperature change, but still. It’s alive too. A thin shield in a fight against death.

Arnie came soaked in mud. I sent him back home. We were not able to read this time. Even after everything, still poor boy.

The pines should become more common here. They are always green and gorgeous.

The sunset yesterday was bathing the land in purple and pink. Like a sheet of gradient above the ground. Sunsets like these are usually common in second half of summer. I literally cannot wait.

I looked through all of the books again. No bugs. The genocide is evaluated as success.

The weirdest thing happened yesterday. We were reading with Arnie when he stopped to ask the meaning of the word “enslavement”. It was a misery in itself to find an adequate reply to that.

I came up with something about making one person work for someone else the whole life. Arnie nodded and went back to reading.

We usually keep the same pace. Well, I try to keep pace closer to his. I read through the next 3 pages of the poetic adventure, but the word was not present.

“Arnie, about the enslavement. Did you hear about it somewhere?”

He pointed to a line on page 83.

“And the life – its own enslavement”

I came back to that page in my copy and the line was:

“Upon the sea the flag stood like a hope”

I asked Arnie to read the whole passage aloud from the beginning.

“Here I stand in the windstorm

Of nothing, never, could have been.

I have broken my own wisdom;

All my life is left unseen.

I am something so unperfect,

I am out of my mind.

And the life – its own enslavement

When I can’t find you in my sight.”

I don’t remember anything like this in the plot of the “islands”. It is a reflexive poem, but not with this tone.

I gave Arnie a different edition of the book and we kept reading until it was time for him to go. I took two hours to cook myself some pasta, a beefsteak and make some tea.

Finally, I came back to the book. Let’s see how much Joe rewrote. I had to come back 10 pages for the original text to return.

No one writes new ten pages for such an old book.

“He laughed and giggled,

And looked at the green wave”

These are the last lines present in previous editions. Everything after that is new.

“I saw out of the darkest channels

Something darker than abyss.

I don’t need to wear a flannel

To understand what comes of this.

I have seen so many mirrors,

But this reflection is not mine

For it shines now so much clearer;

For heaven’s gates – make stars align.

I will wear my bestest costume,

And crawl neatly in your arms.

You will be my darkest volumes.

Be a human – search for stars.”

He told me he was writing three books. A trilogy. They were some kind of surprise. New books after 7 years of silence. He was so passionate about them. He studied a lot before starting those. We bought a laptop for him at the time. And I cannot remember more.

“I will search for you from hell,

I will make myself return

For to be in blissful swell

One must linger flesh and burn.

We will be forever more

Under his wideseeing eye,

Under his pale paws that sore,

Under what we make blue sky.

He is more than I imagined.

Wait a few days - you will see,

And to once a dreaded horror

You will soon refer as “me”

This went on for another ten pages. Someone made fun of my husband’s style. I almost called the publisher at 1 am. I should go to sleep earlier.

The cheesecake I “tried to” make is “almost” perfect. My tongue feels happy. Less flour next time.

It’s getting warmer. I reached a pond in the park. I remember it being there since many years ago. It looks the same. Joe called this the “darkleaf” lake. There are many rotting leaves down there. Some little critters with numerous limbs slither in between those. Yucky.

Why I never opened the table? Why I never did one thing he asked of me before dying? Am I that kind of wife he warned me of becoming? Can I not give justice at least to this?

I cannot continue just reading the “islands”. If I do this, I do this now. I’m going in.

I went in and opened the table. There were three books stacked. All had the same cover. “Bunnies: Volume 1,2,3”. There is a huge pawprint on all of them. It’s badly drawn. The digits are very long. More importantly, there was a note on top of them. I made it wet. I did not read this for two years.

“Keep these three books as safe as you do to my other writings. Don’t open under any condition. What you should do is take the two books on the left edge, on the third level of our bookshelf. Read the ”Islands of rubies”. The “White fuzzy man” bring to this location yourself – 34 West River St. Thank you!”

That’s it? I sat for an hour rotating the little paper. I feel so confused for the first time in many years. That’s what he wanted to say after his death. It must be important.

I went for groceries today and took the book with me. Of course, I have rearranged the bookshelf many times, but I found the "fuzzy man" by pure logic. If they are new editions and they must be, then they should have the same date and publisher. Local publisher for low quantities. One month before he died.

I didn’t really buy anything. I don’t feel need to eat.

34 West River St. I was at that house before. Rubhards live there with their kid. We were friends before Joe died. They were his friends. After he died, they did not come up once. Joe loved to stay at their house for many hours. I don’t know why.

I asked if the Rubhhard family moved over the past two years. I’m glad I did. I sent it to their new address. “From Joe Stormfee’s collection for Rubhards”. Finally.

25 months I wasted not taking part in any of this. Is it even still important? How I could have I failed so much? He loved using the word “slowbox” for people who don’t think as fast as he did. I’m a slowbox.

At least one thing I did right. I started reading what he did for me. I sat at the chimney today and kept reading.

“For these words I leave in here

Are indeed not ink on paper.

It would surely be unfair.

I am for the bunnies – shepherd.

Little bunnies have no feelings,

Cause being eaten is the worst.

When the emotions are still reeling,

Be in caution not to burst.

I would eat alive myself

If it meant to live like Adam:

Out of this prison cell;

To want of God, before erratum.

To king of kings I surely bow,

And take off the rotten parts.

We could be so more than devil

In human beating of a rabbit heart.”

“No dying and no uncertain future,

No consequences for the worst mistakes.

Snake to god is a worthless creature,

So be a god, not a worthless snake.”

I’ve spent till the night reading this. It keeps going and going about change. About losing and transforming. It goes on about some sort of transformation I hardly comprehend. Arnie should have come today. Did he?

I woke up in the morning. I remember taking a glimpse in the books in Joe’s office. It was not something mind-blowing. All of the books are almost empty. Every page has one paragraph. Sometimes it’s just one sentence. All three are like that apart from the last one.

If I already failed another rule he left me, then why not to do it again? The first book starts with:

“He always said it would be nice to live in a small house on top of a hill. Somewhere in nature where no one would ever take us away from each other, distort our love, distort us.”

I was wrong. There is text after it. It stops like thirty pages in.

I will keep reading the “islands”.

“Stay away or stay too close,

You will always stay on the rabbit nose.

Whatever you see, whatever you chose,

It will have a cost, I suppose.

So, keep hands straight,

Achieve the inner peace,

Rip your human flesh,

Percieve what’s underneath.

The bunnies look at you –

Not a big surprise,

When you look at bunnies

With happy girly eyes.

You feel yourself losing

Everything you hate.

The older you are getting,

You gather just mistakes.

Let the mistakes burn,

Leave them to the wind,

And the wind – it blows,

Blows to the hill.

The hill where dog is buried.

The hill was left to rot.

The one who wants salvation

Follow this path plot.”

I was half-dreaming when I read this. I know the hill. It must be talking about the hill. 3 years before Joe died. We buried the poor thing there. I looked outside and understood that it was morning. I have been reading since evening. I quickly put on my coat.

For some reason, I wanted to see the book upstairs again. There were more pages now. More finished pages. The book was almost finished. The second one was still empty. Is the book slowly progressing?

I walked for 3 minutes and reached the hill. The green grass. The grass finally started growing again. It really is spring. It’s really hard to walk, though. Everything hurts. I have not felt like this for many months.

I took the “islands” with me of course. I trust my Joe.

“From the hill go to the tree,

The tree no doubt wise,

The tallest tree you see.

Meet there grannies thrice.”

Maybe I am miserable. Well, I am. I am ready. I looked at the forest that stood far from here. I cannot really see the tallest tree there. Then, it got to me.

Two years ago, there was an oak here. A year ago, I cut it, because the left part of the crown fell off, and the tree began to bend. The worker said it was dangerous. The stump stands here now. And in front of it I stand.

Three grannies? Three old towers of the town which seem high even from here. Finally. It is the last page.

“So now, upon a greyed-out land

stays somebody, can’t be bent.

Turn around and you will see

Everything that’s left of me.”

I turn around.

How awful.