Adulting is a non-fiction series by Daisy Bignell where she explores the daily joys, troubles,and all the in-betweens of adult life.
At 08:43 GMT, your wonderous pathway would not be obstructed by lock and key if you were to follow the scent of fresh herbal tea, blueberry muffins, and lemon water simmering in the sunlight of our floral decanter.
Myself and my partner lightly dance to the melodies embedded in each novel, which lay scattered across the creaky floor.
Avoiding my old paperbacks, before we would slip, I often dreamt of the lives underneath oakwood, moss covered ground. Perhaps Lady Audley’s Secret (Mary Elizabeth Braddon) of the unsuspecting hysteric woman, or The Crucible’s (Arthur Millers) Abigail Williams, screaming from her fire.
During a calming twilight a few moons ago, my love arrived home with my most sought after Oxford Classics hardbacks; The Canterbury Tales (Geoffrey Chaucer), and Northanger Abbey (Jane Austen).
Soon after, a deal was struck. One book welcomed, one book would begin searching for a new book nook.
An idyllic place where The Midnight Library (Matt Haig) would not collect star dust, where The Professor (Charlotte Bronte) may teach again, and where Mr Darcy would continue to play the societal martyr in Pride and Prejudice (Austen…again).
However, each novel sleeping under the duvet of dust once, bit by bit, made me into the girl, who writes before you today. Each flaw of every protagonist drew the mosaics tattooed on my skin, which for some, become fatal day by day. The protagonist in my own story, the antagonist in perhaps many more, and a stranger in others.
I reach for the book with no cover, remaining unfinished. My book.
The book I write late into the early hours. The one that plays with isolation, revenge, and the seventh deadly sin. I stare directly at the title, as raindrops from umbrellas of lashes fail to protect my words. My fluffy socks begin to slip on our apartments floor, so as I leave my partner dancing, I sit.
Maybe it isn’t these novels scattered throughout the moral cartography of what I consider my life.
What if it’s the characters I have created?
What if, it isn’t until you’re an adult, you begin to recognise your undeniable fatal flaw?
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.