The room smells of dust and memories. Looking at it through its eight feet entrance, I try remembering home in it. Purple curtains and the table by its side. Walls with posters; walls with paintings. I lightly swing my torso backwards, resting pale knuckles with a single ring on the mahogany frame as I see the reflection of emptiness echoing back at me. I’m not sure if it’s the silence that makes my heartbeat so audible or the silence within. Leaving my imprint on the door, I walk in with the company of wheels rolling by my side. The fans wake up with a creaking I’m glad to hear. I sit down cross legged on the unfamiliar mattress with the familiar bed sheet of pearl with red roses. Pulling my knees close to my chest, I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing only to juggle chirping, creaking and dry gulps. There’s a buzz that breaks me from the silent chaos as I’m notified of a message.
It’s half past three in the morning and I’ve just finished wrapping up for the day. I wonder if you have too. I remember worrying about your schedule a long time ago. I remember worrying about it yesterday and right now in this moment. Except, it’s a wondering worry; the one’s you can’t stop from being so you try not to notice it. Say, do you take coffee shots in the mornings that were preceded by nights like these? I haven’t had coffee in a while. And I can’t remember the last time I went to the cafe that made coffee the way we liked it – bitter and strong.
With the vast sea clearly dancing with the sky and, the wind with my white color cotton shirt, I wonder. Wonder as my sugar-less coffee fills me. As the clouds fill the domes of heaven. As dreams fill our nights.
Do you have any?