3 / The Message

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Cassidy couldn't get warm for the rest of the day.

No matter how high he set the thermostat, the house remained cold. At first, he was in doubt of his own abilities to install the smart thermostat. He must have done something wrong and it wasn't working properly. But, it was. Using either his voice or the app on his phone, he could change the setting to whatever he wanted. Apart from that, the radiators were hot to touch. Hot enough for him to only be able to hold his hand near them without burning himself. They were working overtime to try and push some heat into the cold.

It wasn't working.

Not wanting a gas bill in excess of his mortgage payments, Cass conceded. He turned the thermostat down to what should be a normal level. When that made no difference, he decided there was no point in having it on at all, so turned it off. With any setting, there was no change in the chill pressing against him, even through his hoodie.

Maybe he was coming down with something. The stress had meant he hadn't had much of an appetite, and there'd been a bug going around the office at work, something that usually played hopscotch with everyone until they all suffered from it. Even though he was having some time off because of the change of address and all it entailed, perhaps he'd caught it whilst there, and it was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He sniffed. Nope, all clear up there. He swallowed a few times. No again. His throat wasn't sore, though he now needed a glass of water.

Perhaps he was just being over sensitive. There was nothing wrong with the temperature inside the house. It was psychosomatic. He'd been thinking about a certain type of warmth being absent until his new abode felt more like home, so it must have translated to his tired mind as a physical manifestation.

Hah! Manifestation. It sounded as if he was haunting himself. If he believed in ghosts, he might have been. As it was, it had nothing to do with belief. Ghosts were not real. They were a figment of rich imaginations, created simply to scare and entertain. Like zombies and werewolves and trustworthy politicians, oh my!

Anyway. He needed to get back to work. There was still lots to do. The first thing was to sort the wardrobe door so it didn't keep opening. The previous owner must have jammed it shut or something, as it was closed when he moved in. It was only opening all the time since he'd used it.

Hinges were an easy thing to fix, but Cass didn't like doing them nonetheless, especially on cupboards and the like. He would find himself adjusting one, then needing to adjust another as the door wouldn't be quite hanging right. Then he'd have to move to the other door to do the same there. And back again.

He thought about just buying a new unit to keep his clothes in, but that was just avoiding the problem. It was also adding another. To buy a new one, he'd need money. What money he did have was required for other priorities, such as bills and food. Screwdriver in hand, he went upstairs.

It seemed colder in his bedroom. Maybe there was an issue with the loft insulation. He'd investigate later.

Again, the door was open. At least it was only one, and not both. That would keep him there for three times as long, rather than just twice, because of his incessant tweaking. He swung it a couple of times, watching the hinges. Neither seemed loose, but he'd tighten them anyway.

There was, to be fair, a little give in the screws holding the hinges in place. It wasn't much more than a slight twist of the screwdriver, and he didn't imagine it would make much difference, but once it was finished, he stood and pushed the door shut.

It opened again, with the hinges singing with a soft but high sound.

Typical.

He closed it again, this time looking at the gap between the doors to see if it was straight. It was. Magnetic contact at the top or bottom? No. Cassidy sighed and frowned. Perhaps he should just get a loop of string and hook it between the two handles. That would do the trick. It was messy, though. It'd annoy him, and be a reminder he couldn't fix something as simple as a door.

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