His & Hers by Alice Feeney EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Alice Feeney
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
Her
Anna Andrews
Monday 06:00
Mondays have always been my favourite day.
The chance to start again.
A clean enough slate with just the dust of your own past mistakes still
visible, almost, but not quite wiped away.
I realise it’s an unpopular opinion – to be fond of the first day of the week
– but I’m full of those. My view of the world tends to be a little tilted. When
you grow up sitting in life’s cheap seats, it’s too easy to see behind the
puppets dancing on its stage. Once you’ve seen the strings, and who pulls
them, it can be hard to enjoy the rest of the show. I can afford to sit where I
want now, choose any view I like, but those fancy-looking theatre boxes are
only good for looking down on other people. I’ll never do that. Just because I
don’t like to look back doesn’t mean I don’t remember where I came from.
I’ve worked hard for my ticket and the cheap seats still suit me fine.
I don’t spend a lot of time getting ready in the mornings – there is no
point putting on make-up, just for someone else to take it off and start again
when I get to work – and I don’t eat breakfast. I don’t eat much at all, but I do
enjoy cooking for others. Apparently, I’m a feeder.
I stop briefly in the kitchen to pick up my Tupperware carrier, filled with
homemade cupcakes for the team. I barely remember making them. It was
late, definitely after my third glass of something dry and white. I prefer red
but it leaves a tell-tale stain on my lips, so I save it for weekends only. I open
the fridge and notice that I didn’t finish last night’s wine, so I drink what is
left straight from the bottle, before taking it with me as I leave the house.
Monday is also when my rubbish gets collected. The recycling bin is
surprisingly full for someone who lives alone. Mostly glass.
I like to walk to work. The streets are pretty empty at this time of day,
and I find it calming. I cross Waterloo Bridge and weave my way through
Soho towards Oxford Circus, while listening to the Today programme. I’d
prefer to listen to music, a little Ludovico perhaps or Taylor Swift depending
on my mood – there are two very different sides to my personality – but
instead I endure the dulcet tones of middle-class Britain, telling me what they
think I should know. Their voices still feel foreign to my ears, despite
sounding like my own. But then I didn’t always speak this way. I’ve been
presenting the BBC One O’Clock News bulletin for almost two years, and I
still feel like a fraud.
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