Continued with my project although found today’s a little challenging!

Using the first line from David Markson’s Wittgenstein’s Mistress…

In the beginning, sometimes I left messages in the street. Then it became a compulsion. I began writing letters and then posting them through letterboxes of strangers. It was on one of these occasions that the door opened just as I was about to post one through. It was an elderly lady. She looked up at me a little scared. ‘Yes?’ ‘Can I help you Sir?’ I gripped the letter, scrunching it into a ball and turned to go. I was embarrassed. She asked if I might help her cross the road as it was the middle of January and snow plagued the streets in icy streaks. We crossed to the other side and I continued to walk with her. Her name was Mary. Her husband had died 3 years ago and she no longer had any family in the area. I had nothing to do and thought I could walk with Mary till she’d reached the main town where the roads were clear. The letter was still firmly in my grip.

Once we reached the grocery store I felt my time had come. I should head off and leave Mary to her shopping. I didn’t know what to do with myself. It wasn’t like I had any major plans for my day but my routine had been derailed by Mary’s sudden appearance and now I felt lost. I couldn’t bear to leave her company and she noticed my hesitation. ‘I know what we both need: A hot cup of tea. My treat of course.’ We walked through the door of The Cheshire Cat tea room and the bell above the door tinkled. The lights from Christmas were still there creating a cosy atmosphere, and apart from than us the place was empty. Once we’d ordered Mary began to speak. She wanted to know a little about me. ‘Well my actual name is Edward but people call me E.’ ‘I’ve lived in Eggington Street for the last two years but I still don’t know anybody who lives there. In fact you’re the first neighbour I’ve actually spoken to.’

Mary didn’t seem to be shocked by this. She nodded along as I continued to talk about myself. ‘I worked in London for a while’, I said. ‘Then I moved here when my sister was committed to the Ward Mental Institute.’