image by author.

let me speak your mind.

It’s like you know that there should be sugar somewhere in the kitchen. In a plastic pot, in a cupboard, most likely. But then, at the same time, you know it for a fact that there isn’t. There’s no sugar in the entire apartment. Same for shadows. At this time of the day they should be everywhere. On the whitewashed walls, in the bedroom — smoothed over by the drapes. The huge dining table should be soaking them up and they should be present in your thoughts as you are sitting at that oak table, drumming your fingers on it, not impatient, just not knowing how to go on. Normalcy is not what you expect, yet you have assumptions. Something that does not make a lot of sense in the first place.