The Lonely

It was warm here. Not like roasting hot, but more welcoming. It smelled like an old lady. She brought me to the living room and sat me on the couch. I was on a three seater. To my left was a huge Grandfather Clock.  Across from me was a loveseat that had one side that looked very worn down. Like someone sat in it for years. “You know, my son Elliot was about your age,” she said as she walked away. “Was my age?” I asked. Her footsteps stopped. “He went missing,” she replied in a sad tone, “one day he just ran away. Said he was looking for paradise. I haven’t seen him in nineteen years. He must have found it.” I couldn’t see Beulah, but I could hear her. The floors were very creaky. “So you’ve just been alone for nineteen years?” I asked. “Yeah,” she said. I could hear her coming back. She came into the living room with a box of tissues, and set them on the armrest of the couch I was on. She grabbed one of the tissues and started wiping my makeup. She continued, “but I get by. My husband died back in 2001, so it was just me and Elliot. Then nineteen years ago, Elliot left, so now it’s just me.” I felt bad for her. All alone. “I mostly just play sudoku. Nothing left for me to do here anymore,” she said, “I’ve served my purpose, and now I’m just waiting to die. I’m 83 now, so it shouldn’t be much longer.” “So you’ve given up?” I asked. She just smiled and said, “I don’t have anything left to give up on, dear. You’re the first visitor I’ve had since the police questioned me about Elliot’s disappearance.” She had finished wiping my makeup, grabbed another tissue, and gave it to me. “Blow your nose, dear,” she said. I grabbed the tissue and blew my nose. She sat down on the unworn spot of the loveseat across from me. “I’m really sorry all this has happened to you,” I said. She laughed and said “Oh, it’s no problem, dear. I’m stronger than I seem.” She paused for a moment. Then, she said, “So tell me about this Elliot fellow.”