The alarm went off in it's soothing, tinkling tone. It rose in
volume over the moments it was left to ring, until he finally gave in.
He opened his eyes to the bright blue morning and turned to his
side. Either side. He now slept right at the middle of the bed, and enjoyed the
space on either side. The barrenness, the freedom.
He patted the pillow cover straight, and then stretched his
hands to tuck the corners of the bed-sheet towards his head. This was a regular
affair before he left his bed everyday.
On his way to the washroom, he picked up his toothbrush from its
stand, laid a thick layer of toothpaste atop it and carried it along.
Fifteen minutes later he came out, leaving behind the gushing
sound of water that filled the cistern back.
He now moved towards the kitchen. Collected the saucepan, poured
some water in it, reached out to the upper row of the kitchen rack for his mug
and the row below that for a spoon to mix things with. He got the milk from the
fridge. The other ingredients were laid neatly in bottles, clearly marked by
their contents, one beside another, on the base of the window right next to the
oven.
He made himself a cup of coffee. He carried the mug to the
living space and laid himself on the easy-chair, legs stretched, slowly sipping
in it. Like every day.
....
The care he took, the attention he gave, the touch that warmed
these left behinds - the pillow cover, the bed sheet, the toothbrush holder,
the fridge, the kettle, the oven, and even the chair that he sat upon - if
only he could spare some of it on the one who actually left them behind, they
wouldn't have been left behinds at all.
...
Over coffee... wasn't that how they had met, exactly a decade
back? - She sighed a smile, musing over this, a coffee cup in her hand, his
picture printed all over it.
....
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