I Opened The WindowI opened the window because I wanted to smell life. Taste life. Feel it on my face in the form of soft wind on an autumn night. But in wanting that feeling instead of just experiencing it because it was there, opening the window became a sad activity instead of a happy one.
And when I closed the window, silence took over again, and only the soft ticking of an invisible clock was heard. The tick of the clock in my mind.
I took a step away from the window, past the shower door, glittering with droplets of water, and took a good look at myself in the mirror as I heard a plane pass overhead somewhere in the night sky. I saw a sparkle in my eyes from the reflection of the metal sink faucet, and my hair was drying, so it fell into odd curls around my quiet face.
My teeth weren't clean. I could feel that without moving my tongue over their plaquey surfaces. I was tired, and my face showed it, as it did always, with dark semi-circles of skin close underneath each eye. An image so familiar that