sloonzz
September 25th, 2014, 07:24 AM
It was bright outside, it always was. I sat beside the window overlooking the landscape that painted a picture of the scorching sun. Orange and dense, it stressed itself smudged like a hanging portrait on the canvas that is the sky. It almost made me forget the squeaking sound the wooden chair made every slight adjustment I did.
It was a usual sight, and it was beautiful.
The radio played the daily intro music. Like anything it plays wasn’t daily. It was a jolly tune, accompanied by subtle static sounds signifying the radio’s condition.
“Good morning, Monday!”
A thick voice greeted my morning, followed by some talk about a celebrity from long ago. The background music put flavor to the conversation. Every sound wave the voices produced was absorbed by my insides. It was an eerie experience, nonetheless refreshing. The exclamations had some sense of hope in them, like this day wouldn’t be so bad after all. It’s what kept me going despite this mind-damaging routine.
I turned the rusty doorknob to get to the bathroom. The sight wasn’t pleasing and the smell wasn’t any different. Some tiles were missing, and the shower faucet had rusty spots in it. It was probably ages ago when it was cleaned. But I couldn’t bother myself with cleaning, and I needed to shower.
The shower’s fragility was evident when it let out the water in a broken sprinkle, similar to a blinking Christmas light. I thought to myself how I wished I could call a plumber to fix this one day. But maybe I didn’t have time to think about it. Or maybe I was just too lazy.
The liquid crawled slowly across my skin. It was lukewarm, but the fact that I washed myself in it was enough for me to pay no mind to the temperature. I turned the shower off and got a towel from my bag. Its rough texture scratched against my skin, absorbing more than the water. I got on my usual shirt, pants, and bag afterwards.
I sat on the weary wooden chair, at the same spot with the window. Mind absent from the surroundings, my thoughts went away from me for a minute. The landscape never ceased to captivate my imagination and caress my memory. Where was I when it happened? How long has it been since?
I got hold of my knapsack with the radio in hand. I went outside and beheld the view. Leafless brown trees wrestling against the blistering heat of the orange sun. Concrete ruins standing sturdy with each other despite the struggle against time. And the infertile brown dirt that surround them, blending with the palette of our star.
It was the familiar wasteland. The remnants of a nuclear war. Two days and ten houses without drinkable water. The radio played the loop.
“Good morning, Monday!”
It was a usual sight, and it was beautiful.
The radio played the daily intro music. Like anything it plays wasn’t daily. It was a jolly tune, accompanied by subtle static sounds signifying the radio’s condition.
“Good morning, Monday!”
A thick voice greeted my morning, followed by some talk about a celebrity from long ago. The background music put flavor to the conversation. Every sound wave the voices produced was absorbed by my insides. It was an eerie experience, nonetheless refreshing. The exclamations had some sense of hope in them, like this day wouldn’t be so bad after all. It’s what kept me going despite this mind-damaging routine.
I turned the rusty doorknob to get to the bathroom. The sight wasn’t pleasing and the smell wasn’t any different. Some tiles were missing, and the shower faucet had rusty spots in it. It was probably ages ago when it was cleaned. But I couldn’t bother myself with cleaning, and I needed to shower.
The shower’s fragility was evident when it let out the water in a broken sprinkle, similar to a blinking Christmas light. I thought to myself how I wished I could call a plumber to fix this one day. But maybe I didn’t have time to think about it. Or maybe I was just too lazy.
The liquid crawled slowly across my skin. It was lukewarm, but the fact that I washed myself in it was enough for me to pay no mind to the temperature. I turned the shower off and got a towel from my bag. Its rough texture scratched against my skin, absorbing more than the water. I got on my usual shirt, pants, and bag afterwards.
I sat on the weary wooden chair, at the same spot with the window. Mind absent from the surroundings, my thoughts went away from me for a minute. The landscape never ceased to captivate my imagination and caress my memory. Where was I when it happened? How long has it been since?
I got hold of my knapsack with the radio in hand. I went outside and beheld the view. Leafless brown trees wrestling against the blistering heat of the orange sun. Concrete ruins standing sturdy with each other despite the struggle against time. And the infertile brown dirt that surround them, blending with the palette of our star.
It was the familiar wasteland. The remnants of a nuclear war. Two days and ten houses without drinkable water. The radio played the loop.
“Good morning, Monday!”