Just A Little Stroll

The silver cottage stood amid a village sprinkled with red-roofed huts and husky shamrock trees. A woven mess of dried willow leaves clung on to the balcony railings, as Portia stepped out to water her plants. The railings of her balcony were lined with flowers planted in earthen pots. Her flaming locks fluttered to the morning breeze, and her nose wrinkled to the smell of luscious nectar. The landscape beyond her porch ebbed with folds of grass, whispering hints of daisies and bluebells in their hiding. Portia looked up at the cerulean sky as clouds streamed past the golden sun. Ibises and waterfowls dotted the horizon, soaring together in perfect harmony. 

Portia took off her gardening gloves and sat down on her wicker chair, savouring the gentle, quivering morning wind. She could see Mrs Evelyn in her violet robes, prancing about her wondrously queer kitchen, leaving behind the aroma of freshly-baked buns. 

"Mrs Evelyn!" Portia called out. The woman in violet halted and turned around. She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to trace Portia's voice. "I'm here, Mrs Evelyn!" Poria cried, waving her hand in the air. Mrs Evelyn spotted her and broke into a toothless grin. She waddled over to her balcony and waved back at Portia. 

"Won't you send me your abundance of scones, Mrs Evelyn?" Portia teased. The hunchbacked woman patted away flour from her worn-out apron and sighed. "Alice, my dear, I'd give you the buns I baked if only I could walk that far!" she complained. "Alice? Mrs Evelyn, I see you're having trouble with remembering my name again. I'm Portia. Alice lives down the street, further away from here!" Portia yelled back, pointing at a minuscule hut beside a meandering stream. 

Mrs Evelyn frowned, trying to process this information. She was getting old. Her once flowing hair was now a crinkled mess of white strands, forcefully knotted into a bun. Her once rosy cheeks, now splattered with powder seemed to be a vain attempt to hide her sour and rigid wrinkles.

 "Well, Portia dear, what are you doing out in your balcony today? I don't see you tending to your plants too often," she asked. "Oh, well. I had nothing else to do." Portia explained. She smoothened her dress and tucked her unkempt red hair behind her ears, expecting more criticism from her neighbour. "I don't quite understand the youth these days," Mrs Evelyn started. Portia sighed, waiting for Mrs Evelyn to burst into another narrative of her 'younger days'. 

"In my younger days, I would help out with all the chores at home! I never even got any credit for it." Mrs Evelyn launched into story-mode. She rambled on and on about how she and her seven sisters would milk their cows and bathe their three little brothers. Portia rolled her eyes and sank into her chair. 'This could take a while...' she thought. 

She looked beyond her balcony railing and saw a group of children frolicking in the morning sunlight. Little Aron chased poor Rose around the garden, trying to catch her pale pigtails. Their laughter echoed throughout the village like windchimes dancing to a tingling breeze. But Mrs Evelyn didn't see the need to stop babbling. 

"Oh, Alice, did I mention the cows? I feel like I haven't said enough about them." she squealed. "Of course you haven't," Portia rolled her eyes. "Mrs Evelyn, why don't we stop talking about the cows, now?" she said. Mrs Evelyn pursed her lips. "Well, I think I've spoken too much. I didn't mean to vex you, Alice darling. Why don't you tell me a little about matters these days?" she said. 

Portia groaned but tried not to betray her annoyance. "Mrs Evelyn, for one thing, I'm Portia, not Alice. And for another, I think you've revealed way too much information about your cows." Portia tried for a smirk, but Mrs Evelyn didn't seem the kind who could understand a little jest. 

Portia cleared her throat to break the awkward silence. "Mrs Evelyn, don't you think it's a splendid morning, today?" she said, hoping that the old lady would agree with her just this once. Mrs Evelyn tilted her neck to the shimmering sky. "It is indeed a remarkable sight." she gasped. "I remember once when I was a child just as you are," she said. Portia tutted in dissent. "Mrs Evelyn, how many times have I got to remind you? Sixteen-year-olds are not considered children. You should get out of your house more often. The world has changed so much, and I think you ought to see what's become of it today." 

Mrs Evelyn seemed quite taken aback by Portia's remark. "I-I... Well, the thing is, I'm not as able now as I was back in the day." she faltered. Portia gave her an encouraging smile. "Mrs Evelyn, I know that you're a daring woman. You can do anything you want as long as you put your mind to it." Portia seemed pretty stunned at her wisdom. Mrs Evelyn glanced around, trying to change the topic. "Look at the grass, Portia- freshly mown, just as I like it. Mr Hastings has finally done it justice. Look! He's even been careful not to chop off the budding bluebells!" 

Portia smiled for Mrs Evelyn at least remembered her name. But still, she persisted, "Mrs Evelyn, why don't you and I take a stroll out in the garden today? It's a lovely day. I think both you and I can agree on at least that." 

Mrs Evelyn hesitated. She averted her eyes to the gushing river down the street, as if the bouncing fish were suddenly a matter of great importance. "Mrs Evelyn!" Portia cried. The old lady peeled her gaze away from the river and looked at Portia, her eyes glistening with tears. "Mrs Evelyn?" Portia repeated, slightly wavering this time. "Is something wrong?" Mrs Evelyn glared at Portia, but her eyes seemed to be looking somewhere beyond. 

"Mrs Evelyn, I'm sorry if I said something wrong. Glad we had this chit-chat. Bye." Portia rushed. She turned around to leave the balcony when Mrs Evelyn shouted out, "Portia, dear, wait. You're right." Portia spun around and saw Mrs Evelyn wearing half a grin. "I've been living in the past all along. I think I'd lost my way and forgotten to live the life I still have!" 

Portia arched her brow. "Are you telling me that you've finally come to your senses?" 

"Yes... that's what it looks like. Portia, will you forgive me?" she looked at her wide-eyed. 

"Forgive you? What should I forgive you for?" Portia asked. Mrs Evelyn looked away and said, "I judged you and your generation harshly. I'm sorry. I never really understood you. But now I have a chance to spend some time with you- a chance to make something of my life. Perhaps time with you will help?" 

Portia smiled and replied, "I'm sure it will. Do you still want to go for that walk?"

"Of course I do." 

Portia laughed with her neighbour as their eyes met, and the two of them turned their backs to each other, waiting to meet once more outside their homes.