The old woman had a thick accent that I could not quite place. She didn't seem to realize the smell of dust surrounding her. Idly, with one of her disfigured, bony hands, she gestured me to come inside the house, as she stood by the door.

"Wh- Oh, thanks but I just- um, so um, do you have any?" I asked awkwardly. I had no idea what she just asked me. What I thought I heard made no sense.

She just stood there, waiting for me to step inside, and said "Hm". It wasn't even a question. She just looked away with glassy eyes, as if trying to catch on to a distant memory; as if it would disappear for good if she stopped thinking about it. Meanwhile, the "conversation" had ground to a halt.

"Um, so, uh- if you had some that would be great..."

"Ha? Hm."

God damn it. I couldn't figure out how much of it she could hear, follow or understand. One last try, then I would ask for my leave.

"Um, thyme? Dried thyme? Green is okay too. You know, thyme, the plant? Lemon thyme? Orange thyme? Lime thyme-"

She immediately came back from her slumber; her glassy eyes widened, and her demeanor changed completely. She said "Lifetime? Hmm yes, I can do that."

Before I could say anything; she shut the door. I just stood there for a while, confused. I tried knocking, to no avail. I went back to my apartment, scratching my head. I never saw the neighbor again. Two weeks later, a family moved in, as if no one ever lived there before.

I didn't think of the incident for the first century. Lately, though, it has been haunting me. What was it that I said, exactly? Didn't I say borrow?

Whom did I borrow it from?