Should you choose to visit, you’ll be received with old-fashioned charm – ours is a simple cottage: furniture well-worn, muted hues to warm you, and a kettle always brewing. Clutter attests to our relaxed lifestyle, welcoming you to kick back and relax. Weather permitting, we’ll sit out back, surrounded by a forest of mature trees and the delightful songs of the many birds who drop by our feeders.
If you’re looking for the writer, you’ll be disappointed. She cannot be found in social spaces, shies away from sunny settings, and does not a good hostess make.
Seclusion is her home of choice. Spends her days, nose under throw rugs, looking for what’s been swept aside; or rustling about in back closets, turning over the unused and out-of-date; or straddling the boards in the attic, straining to ascertain new, if not precarious, angles.
It is not that she abhors company; it’s just that she is interminably introspective – has overthought her position within society and emerged on the side of agoraphobia.
Please don’t let her lack of courtesy deter you; we are fond of visitors here. As for the writer, while you may not see her, she will, no doubt, be watching you.
(The Reclusive Writer first appeared here April, 2016. This version has been edited. Image my own)