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There's no internet in the house.
Johanna still hasn't unpacked yet, her car full of the boxes and laundry baskets and suitcases she'd thrown her things into before hitting the road, but she figured that out quickly enough. It's kind of a priority, after all. Getting settled can wait. She thinks it's going to be a long time before this place feels like home, anyway, a house that should be far too large for one person to inhabit by themselves, that she's still not quite sure how she came into possession of. Technically speaking, on paper, sure, it all makes sense. Some old great-aunt died and left her everything. But she'd never so much as heard of the woman before getting a message from her lawyer, let alone met her, and now, suddenly, it's like she's meant to pick up where some stranger left off, stepping into the remnants of a life she doesn't know the first thing about. A small part of her had hoped that she might immediately sense some connection, like finding something that she'd been missing, but she mostly just felt out of place, as if she were an intruder on the property that she has to keep reminding herself belongs to her now.
Of course, it doesn't help that it doesn't seem like anything that would be hers. It's clear that nothing's been done to the place in a long, long time, much of the house in disrepair, and far from organized. Estella must have been some kind of pack rat, with all she held onto. An animal lover, too, based on the five cats that took her by surprise, that she doesn't have the first idea what to do with. And then there's the internet problem. It isn't even a lack of router, something she could fix easily. She's not sure the house is wired for it at all, and if she's going to live here, she refuses to be completely disconnected.
Later, she'll have to call and see about getting that changed. For now, though, she's got her laptop in a messenger bag over her shoulder, heading down the sidewalk. If she's going to live here now, she might as well try to get the lay of the land. Wandering aimlessly only does a person so much good, though, and eventually, at a corner, she stops the first person she sees. "Hi, excuse me," she says, "do you know if there's anywhere around here with free wifi?"
Johanna still hasn't unpacked yet, her car full of the boxes and laundry baskets and suitcases she'd thrown her things into before hitting the road, but she figured that out quickly enough. It's kind of a priority, after all. Getting settled can wait. She thinks it's going to be a long time before this place feels like home, anyway, a house that should be far too large for one person to inhabit by themselves, that she's still not quite sure how she came into possession of. Technically speaking, on paper, sure, it all makes sense. Some old great-aunt died and left her everything. But she'd never so much as heard of the woman before getting a message from her lawyer, let alone met her, and now, suddenly, it's like she's meant to pick up where some stranger left off, stepping into the remnants of a life she doesn't know the first thing about. A small part of her had hoped that she might immediately sense some connection, like finding something that she'd been missing, but she mostly just felt out of place, as if she were an intruder on the property that she has to keep reminding herself belongs to her now.
Of course, it doesn't help that it doesn't seem like anything that would be hers. It's clear that nothing's been done to the place in a long, long time, much of the house in disrepair, and far from organized. Estella must have been some kind of pack rat, with all she held onto. An animal lover, too, based on the five cats that took her by surprise, that she doesn't have the first idea what to do with. And then there's the internet problem. It isn't even a lack of router, something she could fix easily. She's not sure the house is wired for it at all, and if she's going to live here, she refuses to be completely disconnected.
Later, she'll have to call and see about getting that changed. For now, though, she's got her laptop in a messenger bag over her shoulder, heading down the sidewalk. If she's going to live here now, she might as well try to get the lay of the land. Wandering aimlessly only does a person so much good, though, and eventually, at a corner, she stops the first person she sees. "Hi, excuse me," she says, "do you know if there's anywhere around here with free wifi?"
