Naomi throws her bag on the table in the hallway as she huffs loudly and kicks her shoes off; swapping them for a pair of fluffy slippers. Loopy sits watching her master waiting for her to finish the post-work minstrations and make a move towards the kitchen, at which point the dog follows, her tail wagging happily behind.
Reaching the kitchen, Naomi sets about making Loopy something to eat and within minutes she has the bowl on the floor as the dog literally dives into the food. Upon opening the fridge, Naomi looks in and groans; the sight of all the various foods overloading her due to the big lunch she had had. Finally, she selects various fruits and vegetables and closes the fridge door, throwing them in the juicer she holds down the lid and switches it on.
The whirring of the juicer and the noise from Loopy pushing the bowl around the floor as she eats creates a counter to the disheartening, echoic silence permeating the house. She switches off the appliance and grabs the jug, pouring the contents into a glass.
After rinsing the residue from the jug she places it in the dishwasher and wanders through to the sitting room - glass in hand - to switch on the TV. Biting her lip, Naomi uses the clicker to bring up the EPG and looks for some of her favourite shows, setting a few to record and others on reminder she settles down on the settee to watch.
After a double-bill of Frasier, she glances across the room and notices the laptop. The story comes to her mind again and she refuses to have her hopes dashed by checking for comments. She holds her nose and finishes the contents of the glass before placing it off to the side.
Loopy jumps up on the couch and curls up on top of Naomi. "So you think you're still a lap dog?" she asks her pet who just nuzzles her nose into Naomi's armpit.
Taking the hint; Naomi opens her arms and cuddles the dog, stroking her fur gently as they both get comfortable, another few TV shows pass the time and Naomi turns her body, forcing Loopy to get down off of the couch.
Giving in to her curiosity, she switches her laptop on and softly calls Loopy on her way to the backdoor carrying the laptop with her. Opening the door for the dog, Naomi places the device on the kitchen counter and enters her password. As soon as the desktop loads she opens her browser and clicks on the favourites link to her email. A half-moment later, the inbox pops up and she sucks in a breath as she scans the new mails.
Booksie.com - You have a New Comment.
Opening another tab, she types in the address for the site and then logs in. Her profile loads and straightaway she clicks on the New Messages icon, barely able to keep herself calm as she clicks to view the comment and begins to read:
I need to thank you for posting this, but first there are a few errors and I'd like to get them out the way...
The bangs and crashes were the worse. - The bangs and crashes were the worst.
His family, his brothers where back in a country doing something that he was no longer able to do. - His family, his brothers were back in some country doing something that he was no longer able to do.
So that's all the errors I spotted, now to the story... I don't know where to start but you would not believe the way this has hit me. I read this and it brought me understanding about someone I was very close to; what he had suffered through, how things were for him and how well he hid things from us. For all that I HAVE to thank you!
Although this is fiction, the emotion, the realities of PTSD and the impact are all very, very real. I am shocked this is your first comment. I'm sorry if this is all over the place but I am struggling for words to show you just how much this story has done for me in the few minutes since I read it. There also seems to be pain behind this story and that is something I can relate to. Excellent writing and I just hope that whatever fuelled this is now in the past for you. Thank you again.
Naomi reads the comment over and over as she feels her eyes flood with water, supressing the urge to cry she wipes a hand down her face whilst trying to comprehend the unbelievable compliments and sentiment contained within the feedback. Someone not only relati... but also sensing the hurt beh... Oh my god! she thinks.
Mind reeling, Naomi sits on one of the stools in the kitchen and just stares at the screen, unsure of her response; confused by her urge to tell this stranger everything, to confide in someone she has never met.
The sound of Loopy returning to the kitchen does nothing to snap Naomi out of her strange state of mind as she wanders over to the back door - on autopilot - and closes it. Taking her place on the stool again she rummages in a drawer without breaking eye contact with the screen and fumbles around until she grasps a treat before withdrawing her hand and throwing the treat for Loopy to catch.
Taking a deep breath, she begins to type her response:
Thank you, I have been waiting for what seems like a lifetime, to get a response...