Adulting is a non-fiction series by Daisy Bignell where she explores the daily joys, troubles, and all the in-betweens of adult life.
Original artwork by Sophie Hao.
In Malaysia, 12:00 PM has just passed, whereas the United Kingdom is still sleeping at 4:00 AM, racing to meet Malaysian midday.
This is what I lay awake thinking about; the rush of the universe to catch up with other bodies, planets, stars which constantly revolve around the world, just like a grandfather clock. Perhaps a grandfather clock with a face like the ocean, and Roman Numerals as various time zones. The hands of the grandfather clock could be stars of our solar system, the constellations in various seasons.
Deep in astrological thought, my next – to – broken android pings. With moments of light anticipation, I check my phone.
An Instagram notification.
I slide the tab at the top of my cracked screen to see who this mysterious messenger is. I was pleasantly surprised to see my sister's name appear in my long list of tedious messages.
You’re up early!
Insomnia has crept up on me again.
Oh, that’s upsetting.
Is there lots going on in your head?
Just anxiety I think.
Sorry to hear that sis. I know we
differ, but joining an exercise group
really helped me. Maybe you
could join a book club in Winchester?
Did I tell you I’m part of a book club over here? We’re
currently reading ‘Everything I Never Told You.’
Let me know if it’s any good.
Just like that, we do not talk for weeks.
I try to reach out, but as I type my words seem worthless. Anxiety runs through my fingertips, even when I’m talking to my own blood.
We were never close, nor shared much in common, other than laughs. She used to cover herself with a black under - sheet and sneak in to my room scaring me at six. At seven, I hid fake spiders under her duvet. She dunked me whilst we were training in the pool, when I was eight. At nine, I recorded her singing Jar Of Hearts, by Christina Perri, and played it quietly at a Sunday roast.
Those memories, caught in the empty jar of my mind, are how I remember my sister.
She is now grown, nearing thirty (which she would kill me for saying), living in Malaysia with her fiancé, planning her wedding. Wedding. The word plays on repeat in my silly subconscious.
The last wedding I attended, was at primary school, yet the next is to be my sister's?
After weeks of unspoken words drifting between Malaysia and the United Kingdom, I hear from her in the ‘Bridesmaids Group’ chat, WhatsApp based.
Lilac bridesmaid dresses ladies?
Love that for us!
Yay! Happy to help with anything. Will keep a lookout and let me know if you need help with any more planning.
I don’t know what to reply.
Lilac was the colour of our first ever highlights…we went through a phase. Lilac was the colour of our first swimming costumes. Lilac was the colour of her duvet covers that I envied so much.
I couldn’t muster a reply, other than a collaboration of weak emojis, so I fell back on my second-hand sofa to think. That same evening my partner brought me home a bouquet of dried lavender from my favourite flower shop in Winchester.
Coated in a lavender daydream, I hope myself and my sister will continue to create these lilac memories, in to our adulthood.
Daisy Bignell is an aspiring poet, born in Surrey and raised in a small village. Having just finished her Masters degree in English Literature, from the University of Winchester. She is now taking time to focus exclusively on her writing. Her works have previously been published in literary magazines, most recently in the winter edition of 'Scribbles.' When she isn't writing and reading, she is playing with her family dog, Crumble.