I’ve got two blue shirts folded in front of me on the bed covered with black as I fold the third. I’ve let the chiffon curtain fall over the window letting the orange dance into the room. I stop midway as I stare down at the pattern and memories printed on it. I can feel the five o’clock warmth wrap itself around me but only through the sweater of fifteen months ago. I gently trace the polkas and kalkas, afraid to erase the memories yet trying to reach them one more time.
There is darkness
And coldness here.
But it can not touch you;
Because it fears you.
The yellow light adds warmth to the room that you can only see but not feel. Like an illusion, its comfort satisfies the mind with tricks and lies. There’s a dreamcatcher by the bed that’s caught more dust than nightmares. I twirl it once, contemplating whether it should stay or not; finally deciding that it could continue to stay for show. Leaving behind my suitcase, I walk over to the window. You can see the city and the beach from here. And somewhere at a distance, if you looked closely enough, you’ll see a ship going into the horizon, slowly, and then suddenly, completely out of sight. I tug at the sleeves of my black t-shirt, dragging it closer to my maroon nails, over my pale palms. I rub my arms with my cold palms trying to warm myself. Sitting down on the bed, I feel the illusion of the presence of another me staring into the window in front her.
You’ve left your black slippers beside the shoe-rack; ready to tuck your feet into them when you’re back from work. There aren’t any bright shades that blind the eye, just the warm browns, reds and a streak of golden here and there. I see you’ve hanged a family portrait above the sofa and I can tell, it’s what catches the guest’s eyes first; what you want their eyes to catch first. I lightly trace the walls with the tips of my fingers as I walk deeper into the apartment, waiting at the doorway of the kitchen long enough to catch last night’s dishes sitting quietly in the sink. I don’t need to look too hard to be able to find where you’ve kept the detergent; it’s where you’d always keep them – in the cabinet below the sink, on the left, in a margarine case. You’ve left the kitchen monochrome, with the only pop colour being the crimson utensils’ basket.