Through the rain of the cottage window, a stout elderly woman pensively peered at the driveway and was suddenly struck by a sense of déjà vu, staggering to the comfort of an arm chair to take refuge in silence. She self-soothed with hand-wringing until the stillness was broken by the distinct sound of crunching gravel.

“Oh!” the old lady exclaimed, immediately rebuking her nervousness, “…Just an expected...!  a visitor,” shuffling through the tiny hallway to the porch. Through stained-glass, she eagerly watched an athletic man in his thirties with receding hair line, exiting a car.

“Must be a rented one,” she mumbled, watching his confident approach with a smile of growing anticipation; her hand poised on the handle, until the smiling stranger was within reaching distance of the handle on the other side, then she suddenly pulled it open to reveal her startled visitor.

 “…Hello!” she calmly greeted.

“…Oh…!” jumped the visitor, soon regaining himself with a disarming smile, “…you startled me.”

“Sorry,” she feigned, “…please do come in,” using an arm to direct the incomer.

“Thank you,” the invited praised as he manoeuvred her large frame to follow the tiny hall.

“Oh, it’s fine," the host benevolently grinned, "...turn left and you’re there.” Suddenly the old lady's attention was drawn by the colour of the car in the driveway and was struck by a sense of déjà vu before hurriedly catching her guest already surveying the tidy little front room.

“Nice,” he smiled toward the blazing fire then noticed the abundance of linin, draping chairs, tables and a foot stools, more so in the adjoining kitchen area. But no animals and no sign of family pictures.

“I haven’t actually introduced myself,” the visitor politely declared to the host shuffling in behind. 

“Haha…! She defiantly ginned, “… I just assumed you’re Bill,” and reached out a hand.