It wasn't often that Miranda came home to an empty house, but she always relished it when she did. For one thing, it usually meant she'd worked a morning shift and had the afternoon and the evening off; for another, after working in the crowded, noisy kitchen all day to cater to a crowded, noisy café, often feeling the brunt of any customer complaints that made it through to the kitchen, or watching any of the rare customer compliments go directly to the head chef and stop right there, it was just a relief to have a bit of quiet space to herself. She loved Rona and Eric, honestly she did, and when she looked back to some of the other housemates she'd had she loved them even more, but she was only human and every human liked a bit of peace and quiet every now and then.

Not that Eric, in particular, generated much noise: he was quieter than Miranda thought any drummer had any right to be. Rona was a bit louder, which is to say that she was more inclined to surround herself with noise, in the form of music which she listened to when she was in her room and which always leaked out through the walls, the thinness of which Rona had never really come to appreciate. She listened to good music, but even someone else's good music was still someone else's music, and Miranda didn't always want to hear it. She had to block it out with her own music, which didn't really help matters because sometimes all she wanted was silence.

The house was silent now. It was blissful. Rona had still been at home when Miranda had left for work that morning, which meant she was working the afternoon shift at the bookshop, which meant if Eric stayed away Miranda would have the house to herself. She didn't know how long Eric might stay away, nobody ever knew that, but once he was out he usually stayed out. No pun intended, Miranda thought.

She couldn't wait to change out of her work clothes. As she approached her room she saw a parcel leaning against the door: thin, large, square. Wrapped in brown paper. She couldn't imagine what it was. She pushed the door open without picking the parcel up, as if it might be an illusion, but it wasn't: when she pushed the door open the parcel fell into her room with a soft whump, and then she had no choice but to pick it up.