Company Alex Bivens 44 In the dinge of the heavy, antiquated bedroom, the vanity mirror that rested against the wallpaper had a layer of 昀椀lm that muted re昀氀ection. It wasn’t quite that this tarnish went entirely unseen, but rather it stemmed from the insouciance of its owner who sat before it. An arthritic hand slowly traced the crêpe-like edge of a top lip with a dash of shimmering red. Helen was held to a morning ritual that had her looking all the best her years could give her. This was despite the fact that she had no one to share the vision she’d whip herself into every morning. Her companionless breakfast, which always consisted of a single slice of buttered toast and a soft-boiled egg, increased her sense of isolation, and it invariably had the bigger appetite. The loneliness smothered her more than at any other time of the day. Indeed, as the pensive harbinger of empty dusk descended each night, thankful was she that her television shows served as a gratifying distraction. She thought of them now, allowing a twinge of comfort, of familiarity and anticipation to warm her from the inside. At that moment, the very moment Helen 昀椀nished swiping the metallic tube to the corner of her bottom lip, a piercing sound echoed from the hall outside her bedroom door. Make- up forgotten, Helen turned her head as far as she could manage toward the tone, for she couldn’t recall the last time her ears had been blessed with the sound. The doorbell rang again. Helen scrambled out of the chair, endeavoring to push against its wooden legs 昀椀xed deeply into the carpet as quickly as her stiff joints would allow. She attempted to call out as she shuf昀氀ed out of her bedroom and down the hall, worried that the visitor would 昀椀nd her tardiness distasteful.