– There are no stars today, it is a terribly dark evening. – Anna said to herself while drawing the curtains.
– There are always stars there, it does not matter if you can see them or not. Your perception does not constitute their existence. – sharply replied Lady Altenburg.

     Anna usually referred to her as Lady Altenburg, even in her head. The old woman held a commanding air around her and Anna could swear she could read her thoughts. 

– You are right, madam. Would you like something to drink or tea, perhaps?
– A tea is a beverage, is it not? – thick southern accent withstood the trial of time as well as the woman herself.
– It is. Would you like a cup, then?
– Indeed. Fetch it, thank you.

     Fetch. She does not need a nurse but a servant, thought Anna bitterly. If she did not need the money, which this old witch had plenty, she would not put herself through even a single additional day of this torture that was her company. Yet, one must pay rent and eat to put oneself through medical school. Anna swallowed her pride for the sixteenth time that day – yes, she counted – and prepared tea for both of them.

     It was the last day of October. Glorious October it was. Whole month of sunny, warm days, with only occasional night rain and few instances of a morning frost. Anna enjoyed it very much as she could still read and paint in the park and go for long walks on weekends. Surprisingly, lady Altenburg did not require any help on weekends. Anna brought the trace to the living room and took a seat in the second armchair facing the non-functional fireplace. Back in the day, when the tenement house was built, it was the only source of heating but after many reconstructions during the last century nobody bothered to keep old chimney ways working.

     Elderly tenant of this particular apartment loathed central heating with every fiber of her body but she had no power over the world as her ancestors used to have. Anna knew that they lost their family house that stood only a few blocks from the current address. Sometimes, they passed it on their way to or from the park but Lady Rosa preferred an alternative path. Probably looking at the satellite antenna on the balcony of her old bedroom made her sick to her stomach.

– One day, my darling, you will understand that it is better to choose chestnuts over cherries – she uttered between sips of tea.
So this is it, she is losing her mind, Anna thought. It will certainly make this job even more unbearable than it is already.
– I am not going crazy, you know?
– I did not imply it in any way.
– But you thought about it – she smiled.

     Anna has never seen her smile. For a whole year she saw this woman five days a week – two hundred and sixty occasions to smile, she has never chosen it and suddenly now, after the declaration of sanity…

– You must forgive me for being confused. It does not make much sense to me. And you calling me ‘darling‘ does not help.
– Oh, you are confused, of course and yet you think that I am the one that is utterly demented. Well, I do not blame you. At the end you are the sharp, young mind and I turned seventy-eight this July. How old are you, again?
– I’m twenty-one, madam.
– Oh, please, you can call me Rosa.
– Are you sure?
– No, I am not, I went with the flow, like you say. Alas, let it be. Let it all be. You see, it is the only way to be anyway. I used to fight for everything. I have never won. And one time, this one and only time when I did not fight, I have also lost. I lost love, my darling. And not the puppy, spring love that disappears once cherry blossoms turn into buds. I lost autumn love. The kind of love that radiates the warmth accumulated during summer. The love that comes and puts your whole world to rest. The love that turns sweet fragile cherries into even sweeter marmalade that you can store for years. The love that may cease to be shiny but will prevail as chestnuts collected in October.

     Anna wasn’t sure if she should reply as Rosa stopped speaking and looked deeply into the empty, cold fireplace. She would never, in her wildest dreams, accuse the old hag of such romanticism. After making sure that they were not up to taking part in the festivities of the Anniversary the next day, Anna headed home through the light drizzle.