It Just Happens

unedited. word count: 1079

Needless to say, life was never that big of a deal to me. It's like when someone's praising some well-known celebrity except they aren't that well-known because I don't know them. But that's a bit contradictory since I hardly knew anyone of the new generation.
I'm usually cooped up in my dingy, white wall painted room with my red paisley comforters while the rest of the room is taken up by two bookshelves and a bay bench. I didn't have any color in my room. Even the carpet is of a shade of beige and the bookshelves slightly darker, but not so much that it stood out. The frame of my bed was also a plain light stain, showing off the wood grains like a woman showing off their curves.
But none of that matters.
I am simply here to tell you why for the first time in my life, I stepped out of my own room, my home and my comfort zone.
My mail hadn't come like it usually does on a Friday, early afternoon, 2PM. I pondered about the day, yes. Thinking it must be Sunday, therefore, no mail. But alas that theory was shot down when even the new anchor recited the word.
So where was my mail? My daily dosage of the outside world?
I marched back up to my room, humped over cause my back was aching again, stomping my feet on the beige carpeted stairs, not even glancing at where exactly I was headed and that, I must say, was a wall. I had walked right into a bloody wall that protruded just a little bit off. I hated that thing. Once, before it came to mind, but like everything else it started not to matter, until now. Now that I've hit my head on it and now that it's left such a slightly reddish bump on my forehead. My perfectly tied bun fell, some of my grey hair falling to my face.
Great.
I should've have known, even a home can't save you from getting hurt.
Ah, you must be wondering why I've even chosen to stay indoors. Well, you see, I didn't used to always not care. I cared a great deal about a lot of things back in the day. I did. Honestly. But when your heart is broken, so broken that when you've tried to piece it back together, you just can't because some piece are lost. Some are too small to see and paste with the rest. And sometimes, you get tired of piecing them together.
I got tired. Then I started not caring.
But today, I did care about two things: that stupid wall that just happens to stick out an inch or two into the stairs and my missing mail.
I quickly threw on my jumper, the one with a hood and good enough pocket to stuff my phone and wallet in. Possibly even an umbrella, but I doubt that. Why would anyone stick an umbrella in their pocket? That's just... a bit... absurd, don't you think?
Oh well, it doesn't matter, i don't plan to anyway.
So, I ventured out that one Friday. Left my food out in the open. Left my window slightly ajar, with the curtain open, letting a bit of the sun that was hardly seen by me. I didn't care really, really I didn't. I didn't care if someone chose to break in. What will they steal? My beige carpet? My white walls?
Oh goodness, they'd be crazy to do just that.
And so, I walked out. Kept walking, mind you, I don't walk that often. Yet, I felt like walking that day. Oddly enough, I remembered someone recommending walking to me. Must have been a neighbor or of some sort. Nevertheless, I kept walking. Kept walking until I reached the post office that was a few blocks off. That's why I walked because it was so bloody close to my home.
Sodding mails made me walk. Oh well, what to do? I've already done it. I peered in through the glass doors. No one seemed to be in at the moment. That was curious. Definitely curious.
I knocked a good knock, making sure that the people in their homes could hear me, but no one answered. Didn't anyone else care for the mail? Because I certainly did.
But no one is the same and if I cared, someone else in the world may not, and those people happened to be my neighbors.
Just my luck. The actual time I actually walked out and started caring for something, the rest of the world stopped. I shrug. I'm not so much as a worrywart as the next person, so I turn, heading back home because I still had that damn problem with my wall. My white walls- or was it the wall sticking out?
I'll wait for tomorrow's mail. I can do that.
So, like I said before, I headed back to my house, where uncannily, stood my mailman, though he really isn't mine per se, I just simply want to state the fact that he's the same person who delivers my mail on a daily basis.
I smile. He smiles back. He was probably in his 20's.
"Hello there madam." He smiles. He probably doesn't know he's late by 30 minutes because he probably doesn't care what time the mail should come. Or how agonizing it had been to not have seen my mail at exactly 2PM. He must not care because he just simply smiled without an apology.
I don't answer. I'm a coot that way. And I take the mail.
I hear him grumble an indecent word before he climbs back to his car. I furrow my brow, because it hurt. The word hurt me because I did, actually, really care about what he thought. Because he was my mailman. Again, not meaning to be possessive.
"Thank you." I smile before he leaves. And he smiles back because he did care.
I walk in my house. Nothing has changed, I still had my white walls, that ugly protruding one up the stairs, my beige carpet and the dingy feeling you get when you step inside, except for me. Because today, I stepped out of my comfort zone.
Some things just a happen by sheer luck and today, I was lucky enough to get my mail late and realize, not everything about life didn't matter. More like, they mattered a lot.

Author's Note

author's note: My grandmother, who I didn't have the honour of growing up with, was always bitter in my mom's stories. That's why, I wrote of a bitter old woman, who was too engrossed with what she already has that she didn't realize how other things were important too. Instead of the typical "you don't know what you have til you don't have it anymore" I opted with a different philosophy. I hope you liked it. Reviews are much appreciated.

Reviews

[TheSweet]

I really like this concept and it's an interesting take on a character and a new direction avoiding cliché. Also, I personally like your style of writing as it is rather unique. There is something about the way you write that is bewildering.

Seeing as it is unedited - I definitely think you can afford to nail down a certain few things in an edit though. There are a few lines which stand out, such as 'showing off the wood grains like a woman showing off their curves.' - which is a great use of similie which I'd like to see more of.

Also, there is one part when you start a broken sentence structure that I think you could also push a little further throughout 'I cared a great deal about a lot of things back in the day. I did. Honestly.' But that might just be my specific opinion - cause I like that style.

I would suggest separating paragraphs clearer, such as indenting the start of leaving a line between each - because blocks of writing like this one look intimidating and scare off readers. So just for simplicity - that might be helpful :)

I think your writing style has added querk in a piece like this because you mention and repeat things that seem unimportant or mundane - but it kind of works in the context. Like where you repeat the 'not meaning to be posessive' with the mailman :)

Bravo, thanks for sharing!