Time To Go

The apartment is quite a good size. The oak door stands behind me. The walls are painted a close navy blue with simple designs of white in the corners, growing to the center of the canvases. The ground beneath my feet is layered with oak, shinning in the soft lighting from above.

The small kitchen is diagonally to my right. The dinning table is to my right against the wall. There is a small living room with a simple couch and glass coffee table on top of a furry rug. Directly in front of me is a short hallway with four doors. The first door on the right is the bathroom. The second door on the right is a work room. The doors on the left both lead to small bedrooms already decorated and designed.

I walk into the first bedroom. There’s a single light in the middle of the square ceiling, shinning down upon a full sized bed covered in dark blue sheets. There is a small oak table to my right, sitting in the corner between the wall and a sliding mirror door to the closet. Across the room is a window seat with two pillows stacked on either side. The walls are bare and clean; the room seems unused and empty.

I move onto the second bedroom. The bed is now in the corner of the room, diagonal from the door. The walls are still the same navy blue, but there are more white decorations that run across the walls. There are also many photos, hanging on strings, here and there. They tell stories, represent memories, and more. There are even some frames sitting on the desk across from the bed and below the window seat that is between. A thin curtain hangs over the window, blocking enough light so it is not blinding as it patches the furry rug in front. The room seems busy but familiar.

Walking across the hall, I notice the workroom is in between of being bare and decorated or busy. There are frames along the middle of the walls, a row of pictures on one side of the desk, and a large beanbag chair in the opposite corner. The rest of the room is blank. There is no other furniture in the room besides the one desk and two chairs. There is a large space between the desk and a mirror wall on the right from the door. The whole room is reflected in the glass, it covering the entire wall. It looks so simple and elegant. It seems beautiful.

I walk back out and briefly glance into the kitchen and walk by the living room once again. Everything seems to create an “at home” atmosphere. It’s a settling and peaceful feeling that I longed for. Sadly, it was time to go. I didn’t know where I was going, or even why I was leaving. It had seemed as if I had just arrived.

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About MysteriesOfLife

"The 'Earth' without 'art' is just 'eh'."
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