The Mist Has Cleared

The mist lifts

Lately Sarah Whitaker finds herself drifting through her own thoughts. Life feels dullevery day repeats the same pattern. She does have a family: husband Edward and two boys, Tom and Jack, both top of their class at the local school.

Sarah awakens early, the steady tick of the hallway clock echoing in the bedroom. Dawn barely brightens the sky outside. She lies still, unable to fall back asleep, her mind already wandering through the tasks awaiting her.

This will be another day of chores, she muses. Ill milk Bess the cow, feed her and herd her back to the flock, then tend the other livestock. After that I must rustle up breakfast for Edward and the boys, wake them, get the lads to school and Edward off to work. Oh, and I need to hilltop the potatoes today, or theyll overgrow. Grab the spade and head to the garden.

She rises and throws herself into the housework, thoughts tumbling as she does. I have to do the laundry, sweep the yard, pull the weedshavent cleaned out there for ages. My life is a parade of jobs, endless and boring The day begins.

Edward, get up, its time, she nudges him lightly on the shoulder. Hes already awake.

Alright, he grumbles, rolling onto his back.

Kids, get up, its breakfast and school time. Tom, dont sulk; you still have to get dressed. Whos going to school if you dont? And you, Jack, stop lying aroundgo to bed earlier next night, Sarah chides, though gently. The younger boy springs up, light on his feet, while Jack stretches lazily.

She sends everyone off, starts the washing, and hangs the fresh linen on the garden line. Something heavy sits in her chest, a vague sadness she cant name, but lately shes noticed a growing discontent with her routine.

She begins pulling weeds when Nancy Brown, the lively neighbour from the next cottage, bursts into the yard. Nancy is always shouting at her own animals, her voice carrying across the lane.

Nancy, whats all the yelling about last night? Sarah asks.

Ah, well my son Freddie came home, more like crawled in. Id been waiting all evening to shift a heavy chest, and he was supposed to help, but hes still halfasleep. Then he disappears to that old tavern with Ignatius, drinking all night. Your Edward never drinks, Ive never seen him tipsy, Nancy complains, a hint of envy in her tone.

Nancy envies Sarahs quiet yard, the lack of noise. Seeing her neighbours gloom, she asks, Sarah, why the long face? Whats got you so down?

Sarah sighs, sitting on the garden bench, Nancy beside her.

I dont know, Nancy. Something feels heavy. It seems all the exciting things happen elsewhere, and other people live brighter, fuller lives. I long for something different, even if its not a Hollywood story, just a taste of what our neighbours have, she admits.

Nancy flutters, Oh, Sarah, youve got it easy. Everythings smooth as butter at your place. What more could you want?

Sarah glances at Mary Ellis, a neighbour whose husband Victor drives a sleek car, brings red roses from the city on his birthday, and dotes on her in public. Look at MaryVictor is handsome, theyre always together, he kisses her on the street. Mary works as a chief accountant, dresses well. Its like a fairytale, Sarah whispers.

Nancy interrupts, Theres the rub. You only see the sparkle because youre home all day. Victors a proper cad, a flirt, and Mary knows it. She buys new clothes to keep up, but hes as fickle as a spring cat. He may hug her in town, but at home he could be with another. He roams the city, meets young women, lives a wild life.

Sarah looks skeptical, How do you know all that?

My sister works on the farm nearbyshes in the loop. She tells me Mary hides bruises with makeup, lives in fear Victor might leave or hurt her. Who needs that kind of fairytale? Nancy says, a little breathless.

After a pause, Sarah continues, Alright, if thats true, I shouldnt envy Mary. What about Tara? Her husband Andrew never leaves her side. He loves her and their son, even takes them to the seaside resort now and then. Tara seems happy, while my life feels flat.

Nancy scoffs, Youre missing the whole picture, Sarah. Andrew doesnt drink, but his older son is ill, and the younger is a decent schoolboy. They live on Lower Lane, at the end of the village. I know Andrew because Edward talks about him well. Tara and I went to school together; she married Andrew straight after. They even had a fling in school.

Sarah nods, I know their son Van is very thin, still looks like a sevenyearold. They send him to a sanatorium for free, and Tara takes him on those trips. Thats not a holiday for anyone, though.

Nancy sighs, Exactly, its not all sunshine. Im on the farm, hear every gossip as soon as it starts. Oksana, Andrews sister, works there, her tongue is long.

Sarah laughs, Youre right, I shouldnt be jealous. As they say, every cottage has its own rattles. I dont know the details, but thats fine.

Nancy retorts, You stay home, shop, and never meet the other women by the well. Edward brings water from the well, dug the borehole, and hes a good, dependable husband. Maybe youre just bored, dreaming that everyone else lives carefree.

Sarah sighs, Maybe Im just looking at Mary and Taras lives as something sweet, while Cathleen enjoys love and attention. Cathleens beautiful; every man turns his head when she walks by. Men from the next village ride motorcycles over to give her gifts. Yesterday I was at the shop, and she came in with a bouquet and a box of chocolates, saying they were from Ilya from the neighboring hamlet.

Nancy adds, They even say the village mayor visits her in secret. If his wife finds out, Cathleen could lose everythingher hair, her standing. Its all gossip, of course.

Sarah smiles, Cathleen certainly lives a lively life.

Nancy chuckles, Shes 35, and still gets courted by riders and drivers, but no one has asked her to settle down. Youth fades, yet she remains alone.

Sarah thinks, She must wonder about that too, crying into her pillow while no one sees.

Nancy mutters, So you see, those women arent all that happy either, and I do envy them a bit. Maybe a fog has clouded my eyes.

The neighbours chat a while longer. Eventually Nancy hurries home, and Sarah grabs a spade and heads to the garden to hilltop the potatoes. The boys return from school; she feeds them, milks Bess the cow, and Edward arrives from work. The day passes in the same quiet rhythm as always.

That night Sarah cant fall asleep easily. In a restless dream she sees her late grandmother, Eleanor, appearing out of the mist.

Sarah dear, dont curse God, dont blame your fate. Trials come in measure, and youve faced few in life. Live your life as it is the old voice whispers.

The image fades as the fog lifts, and Sarah wakes. Guilt washes over her for having complained, pitied herself, and envied others happiness.

Dawn breaks. Edward snores softly, the hallway clock ticking. She throws a shawl over her shoulders and steps onto the porch. The mist is thinning, dew glitters on the grass, and the day promises fair weather.

How wonderful life is, she thinks brightly. Everythings fine. Ive spent so long looking at others through a fog of jealousy, trying on their lives as if they were my own. I never truly knew how people actually live. Dreaming of neighbours happiness, I ignored the joy already in my own lifemy loving husband Edward, who would never hurt me; my wonderful sons, excelling at school; the small worries I fretted over are truly trivial. How good it feels now that the mist has cleared.

She returns inside, drops the shawl, checks on the children, adjusts Jacks blanket, and feels the world settle back into its familiar pattern. Life goes on.