Notes on (WIP): I no longer use this blog just to showcase finished pieces like a typical blog. I don’t draft posts anymore—I just hit publish and work on them gradually, refining as I go. That means entries like the Unlived Lives series are constantly evolving. And somehow, it feels liberating. This process helps me grow without getting stuck in perfectionism. Besides, this blog has never truly felt public to me—it’s more like a private backyard.
A car tore through the street, its engine splitting the midday hush.
‘This time of day? Of course.’ she muttered from the porch, frowning at the intrusion.
A car tore through the street, its engine splitting the midday hush.
The house had been standing for nearly 40 years, its German-engineered windows boasting impressive sound insulation, reducing noise by up to 50 dB. Compared to when she first moved in, a time when she often worried about the effects of constantly using earplugs, she now felt a quiet sense of pride in finally being able to decide (and afford!) to replace the old windows.
They had gone back and forth on the windows, just as they had about selling the house. Even after the mortgage was paid, they never followed through—perhaps out of habit or out of something neither of them could quite name. Three decades in, nothing much had changed inside—no interior design theme was ever implemented. Their home remained untouched, with its built-in furniture still standing as it had since the day they moved in.
‘We don’t need it,’ her husband said. Yeah, she agreed when the idea of buying a sofa randomly came up.
They truly never felt the need. Guests were rare, almost nonexistent. The seating they had—a small dining set with two chairs and a long, multi-purpose bench that doubled as storage—always felt sufficient.
The heat that day was relentless, nudging her toward her usual routine—watering the plants, again. Now squinting against the harsh sunlight, she spotted Shiro, the stray cat that roamed their complex, making its way toward the house.
Before heading back in, she made a mental note: tomorrow, the same. Also, a little extra cat food needed to be left, just in case.
–
The name Chas had been her suggestion, borrowed from a favorite film character. It had started as a passing thought, nothing more, yet somehow, it had settled, unchallenged. She had initially resisted. It wasn’t her place. She wasn’t technically family. And yet, when she had spoken the name aloud, they had simply accepted it, as if it had always belonged.
Years ago, an accident had taken her dearest friend, and with it, the shape of everything she had known. She had taken in the young man—not in the legal sense, but in all the ways that mattered. A quiet tether had formed between them, invisible yet unshakable, linking their lives in ways neither of them had ever expected.
A soft creak echoed through the room as she shifted slightly, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of the ceiling. Afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting long, dappled patterns across the floor. Faintly, she could hear sounds from upstairs—probably her husband watching YouTube. Her gaze drifted, unfocused. The memory came gently, as if it had been waiting just beneath the surface. The weight of Chas in her arms—small, impossibly light. How surreal it had been. How surreal it still was.
‘God,’ she whispered, barely audible. A tightness pressed against her throat, familiar and unwelcome. Then, a soft chime.
The phone screen glowed in the dimming light. Chas had replied.
‘Don’t bring anything for Opa. You know how picky he is, and we’ll just end up being scolded for wasting money,’ she typed, her fingers hovering over the screen before adding an upside-down smiley at the end. (Updated 25/02/2025)
to be continued
The “Unlived Lives” series represent short fiction of the roles that might have been destined for me in an alternate dimension, purposes I believe were meant to be mine but remained unfulfilled in the present life.
Read other entries in the series here:: Unlived Lives: Art Curator and Unlived Lives: Robin Ellacott
(also a WIP :-p) Unlived Lives: Serendipity Grandma Playlist