Saturday.

She stared at the lady's dark tousled hair for sometime, a messy bun at the top, held in place with an old hair clip. Something about it was familiar. Probably the oddly peculiar style in which she wore it. She'd seen it somewhere she could hardly remember.

Involuntarily withdrawing her gaze, she adjusted them to the route the bus had taken down the main street. Observing the trees and billboards whizz by quite speedily.

Her soft moistened red lips gently coming apart, just enough to release a disturbed sigh.

Coral green glossy eyeballs, mystic as nature slowly covered by fair eyelids, fortified with curly long lashes. She tried to relax, a bit uneasy with the seat she found herself on. Shortly, she drifted off in thoughts. Her breathe causing her chest to pulsate slowly.

How could she have found herself in what seemed to be an eternal condition of poverty? Lingering, growing with her from childhood. She was helpless as much as she tried. It had nagged on with her till adulthood and her only solution now, was a wealthy suitor or a good job, whatever that might be. Unable to comfortably afford even a good square meal, a day. Her early twenties were gradually starting to tick and she was still revolving with the monster she knew, since was old enough to be conscious of the fact that she was alive, the fact that she was in a space of reality. Her parents fought the same battle, she was fighting and had lost the same way she was losing.

Quickly coming to self-consciousness, she observed a phosphene swirl colourfully in her own darkness. It was probably the reflection from the twisting head of a curious passenger. The jolting of the bus at the stop of a passenger had jerked her back to reality, but she had refused to open her eyes.

Shortly afterwards, she returned to melancholy. The thought of her rickety shabby apartment, inadequately furnished blazed her mind again. The place of refuge she couldn't run from. Among the slums of Boristwan Town. The roof had been profusely leaking the previous time and her attempts to patch them with a hard polythene bag, to save repair costs had failed.

Sighing again, this time heavily, her smooth cheeks sort desperate comfort in her tender palms, her elbow resting on the arms of the booth-like chair. She swallowed hard. Then, her mind returned to the house again. The thought of dinner raced in. Only the last of the cereal remained. A third which was, even if it was all that was left, was barely enough to satisfy her for the night or calm the rumblings of her complaining stomach. She considered asking Stephen but dismissed the thought after contemplating, on the fact that she would sound like a gold digger, since it was just a new relationship, hardly a month old and she didn't want to create insecure impressions on the mind of her man.

She hoped her twin would return with a hand full tonight.

He'd been staring at her cleavage. Fair smooth flawless skin, full and perkily popped in the borders of the wide V-necked velvet top, she wore. Typical of any slightly busty woman. Everytime she inhaled they seemed to get even fuller, more beautiful.

He tried to clear the dirty thought from his head. His conscience reprimanding him for being unruly.

He placed his hands on hers,thick hands grabbing hold of her light light fingers and massaging them slowly to soothe her.

"Motion sickness again? Is it vertigo?"

His voice sounded calm and low. He had been observing her for sometime now.

There was no reply she seemed lost in deep thoughts.

"Xan?"

He called out softly to her.

She jerked a bit, her eyes almost meeting his lustful gaze. He was smart enough to shift it in time.

'Damn! Close!'

Stephen exclaimed in his head, swift to escape.

She relaxed back into the chair as soon as she figured it was him.

"Oh, Sorry... I was kinda lost"

She realized.

"Are you okay?"

He cared.

"Yeah, I guess? Just overthinking again"

She replied swallowing spittle in anxiety, goosebumps rising on her arms as his fingertips caressed a partial tickle spot between her fingers lightly.

"Oh I thought it was motion sickness, vertigo perhaps"

He said.

"Over thinkers cause alot of mental harm to themselves over little issues. It's disturbing"

He added matter-of-factly.

She nodded, unenthusiastic to begin any irrelevant discussions. She was clever enough to realize that saying anymore words could lead to an endless dialogue and right now, all she just wanted to do was sit and rest her heavy head.

He squinted his eyes to catch details of her glorious siren eyes in the precious moment. She looked away a bit shy. Then, she adjusted uneasy of what to make of his look. She did feel quirky being looked at like that.

"I mean, I do feel dizzy, but, no peeps! I can handle it"

"It's okay"

She forged a smile.

He placed his armed over her, resting her head on his shoulder, her long wavy blonde hair falling over his back while her rubbed her shoulders lovingly.

"If you need anything. I'm always here"

He patted her.

She loved the comfort and relaxed into him. Solemn but amazed by how okay she felt whenever she was around him. Her eyes roamed the chair.

"We're almost there."

She nodded. He handed her a packet of cheddar snack to chill with. She stared at it for a while before accepting.

She struggled with the key in the lock for some minutes, grumbling. One last twitch was the stroke that broke the camel's hump as the rusted knob let loose, allowing the wooden door to give way to the scraggy apartment.

It yanked open, creaking loudly as it did so, bits of woods falling off and apart, obviously the proud work of incessant termite infestation. Some more slides and it scrammed against a barrier, a wall behind it.

At once, a damp whiff greeted her nostrils.

She strolled in, it quite early into the night,yet the room was dark as a dungeon.

Stuffy and musty, the result of inadequate ventilation. She took the atmosphere in with a blink of familiarity. She should've been used to this place by now.

Every thump against the parquet floor, indicated her entrance and refugee rats scrambled for safety at her intrusion. The cockroaches followed suit, scurrying into their chambers as many as could contain each. The final rat entered a hole at the corner of the wall and the slowest cockroach behind the closet.

There was hardly anything in the room. Just the necessary requirements for a normal daily life. Except a wooden rocking chair, an inheritance from their grandmother and an old pendulum clock which had especially been her favorite spot as a child.

Then, she would play with it, watching the bob swing from side to side as she pushed it randomly. Right now, all that stuff seemed old and useless to her.

She just wanted a better life away from this place, this city, if she could. There was no means of livelihood here.

She had a very long journey, from her village. Her legs ached from trekking long distances and most disturbingly, there was a sharp feeling of nausea in her throat.

She settled her buttocks to a wooden rocking chair to rest a little.

She took off her footwear, a pair of black polkadot stilleto with her toes. Then she wiggled them.

There was a knock on the door, slightly audible.

"Xanthippe? Are you in?"

She recognized the voice. It was her twin, Xanora.

"Yh! Come in! It's open!"

She answered, her gaze still on the wooden clock whose time she was trying to read admist the rusted interior.

The knob twitched slightly again, except this time more gently.

Her fraternal twin walked in.

"How are you comfortable sitting there? It's dark in here"

Xanora said that with anger mingled in her voice.

"Then, get the lantern!"

Xan almost screamed she was in no mood to be spoken to especially in such manner.

Then she relaxed back into the chair, pursing her lips.

She could hear Xanora hiss.

She stormed into the kitchen, to find a solution almost tripping over a carelessly dropped bucket in the dark. She groaned as her toe dashed against a rough board. Lucky enough not to get pierced by the nail on the board. Then, she screeched in terror as a black cat probably finding leftover chunks of food and fish, slid off a nearby window on sighting her.

"What's the problem again?"

"Nothing!"

She tried to maintain. Turning red with frustration on the cheek as she held it in.

"Is it a cat?"

"I hate cats! Goodness! Here is a mess!"

Xanthippe ignored her. Besides, she was the cause of the problem. If only she had done her chores in the morning while Xanthippe was preparing breakfast, she wouldn't be struggling now. It pained Xanthippe to discover that she was complaining over her laziness however she was pleased that it affected her adversely. Otherwise, she could have done her bid.

'She'll still never learn'

Thought Xanthippe. She was older than her by five minutes.