Jane loved mornings. She’d wake up early, at least one hour before her partner, Sarah, started stirring. By then she would have coffee ground and brewed, checked her mail, said hello to her followers, and started writing. She would admire the rising sunlight reflecting in the bare branches of the oak trees at the bottom of their garden, and listen to the many noises of the city getting into gear: the traffic already heavy on the nearby highway, morning commuter trains, distant radios.
Her mornings were busy. After kissing Sarah a good day, she started her routine. She wrote until mid morning and then took a break. Twice a week she would go to the gym and train, assiduously, to the sound of Björk, Metallica or Domina Noctis, or any one of the other rock bands that allowed her mind to drift, and inspired her. The gym was a good place for her imagination. After her usual exertion she’d enjoy a hot shower, sometime exchanging a joke or chatting with the other girls. Jane was congenial, without ostentation, just herself, cheerful most of the time and always prepared to laugh at a good joke. Back home she’d resume writing, and finally pause for another brew. It was then time for travelling, in her imagination, to the Prairie, far away, where V lived.
V, her secret and beautiful muse. She’d imagine V, asleep, her red hair spread over the pillow, perhaps dreaming of her… The seven hours difference meant that they could not “meet” for another three or four hours, in the early afternoon for Jane.
V was her alternative soulmate, the opposite of herself, a real human being she was convinced she’d never meet in the flesh… Which allowed her imagination to wander freely. She’d confided the relationship to Sarah, who had laughed, and congratulated her partner for yet another “imaginary” conquest. Jane had reflected on the imaginary attribute of her relations with V. To what extreme would a writer go to experiment with new horizons? That morning she thought living their realities in different timezones was a blessing. It gave V plenty of time to play “elsewhere” without worrying about Jane intruding, as Jane was by then busy with Sarah or going out. And of course it left her, Jane, plenty of time for her writing and reading, and for the house chores she was responsible for. So it was that Jane cherished her timezone.