Another Rainy Dawn. {fiction}
{source}
The alarm clock on her nightstand struck seven as it started to ring softly across her bedroom.
She stared at it for a few seconds, letting the repetitive sound get louder and louder before she finally hit the Off button. She didn’t need anything to wake her up from her already sleepless nights. Lying motionless in her bed, she stared at the bright light emanating from her black alarm clock. She wondered why she should get up.
She had nothing to look forward to today, similar to how her past few days have been. Should she get up to get ready for a job that she didn’t have? Maybe she should rise to clean the house. Like the dark mold forming in the corner of the living room. But why should she clean it? And for whom? She lived alone in this cold grey house that was adjacent to a dark alley. Her thoughts continued.
Should she get up and get dressed? Why should she? She had no one significant in her life to appreciate the effort she would put into getting dressed. Would anyone even notice if she didn’t get out of bed this morning? Would anyone care to know why? What’s the point of doing anything anyway? Frustrated, she looked out the large window that was near her bed.
Grayness dominated the scenery, along with brown barren trees and golden grass that were accompanied by the rain. Unsatisfied, she turned her back towards the window and returned to her thoughts.
After a few more minutes of inane thinking, she finally decided to drag herself out of bed. In her grey house robe, she took out a ceramic mug, her only one that was free of cracks or broken bits, from the dusty shelf. She made herself a half a cup of coffee with the few teaspoons of milk she had left. Before she took her first sip, she stared intensely at the dark caramel-colored solution.
The worn out mug was not doing justice to the delicate drink. She inhaled the strong scent. It reminded her of the intoxicating aroma of freshly ground coffee one would smell walking into a local café. The smell she once sensed in her past. A familiar scent that brought her comfort and a sense of belonging.
It was a small but popular café, with well-trained baristas making caffeinated beverages for couples of all ages. Young and old couples would slowly sip their drinks while having intimate conversations. She found herself amongst this friendly crowd. Wearing a white floral dress that brought out her inner confidence, she waited impatiently for her order.
She moved forward in her metal chair, which was warm from the midday sun. Looking around the place, she saw a large tree that was shedding its leaves, creating a colorful masterpiece on the ground around it. Two small boys jumped excitedly in the small pile. Their laughter was contagious.
She looked behind her where a young family was enjoying their lunch. Their baby, with crimson cheeks, giggled and looked at her with curiosity. She sweetly smiled back, and caught the mother of the baby giving her a friendly wave. She started to swing side by side as she listened to the soft, melodious music playing in the background.
After a few minutes, a young waiter in his early twenties delivered her coffee. The blanched cup had intricate patterns carved on it. The delicately made designs on her coffee showed signs of consideration. She inhaled the strong aromatic scent. The rich aroma promised an enjoyable taste. She sipped the steaming hot coffee and enjoyed the creamy texture in her mouth.
The indulging nutty flavor immensely satisfied her taste buds. She leisurely sipped the rest, savoring the new tastes she experienced with each sip.
In memory of her past experiences, she finally took her first sip of her now lukewarm coffee. Compared to the taste she had in mind, this coffee tasted like warm bitter water. Disappointed with her lack of ability, she poured down the drink in the sink. She dragged her feet towards the window in the living room as she pulled her robe tighter against her skeletal body. She could smell the fetid odor of the mold.
She moved towards the window and looked outside. The scene looked no different from what she had seen before: all was quiet, and at what seemed like permanent rest. The main street, which was once a busy road, now showed no signs of life. Even the trees showed no reaction to the hard rain that was beating down on them. They stood motionless, like a lifeless body being hit on again and again.
Displeased with the morose atmosphere, she started to turn away, but something caught her eye. Beside a large bare tree, a small sunflower was blooming despite the constant rainy days. There was only one, but it was enough to catch one’s eyes. It grew unaccompanied, but with conviction and certainty. It absorbed each and every drop of rain that was falling on it without letting its delicate petals be harmed.
If the flower could stand tall despite the rain, then why can’t she? Why can’t she be as strong? She wondered deeply. Life will not always be ideal, and the sun will not always shine.
The perfect life cannot and will not persist, and the rain will fall. But everyone does get their bit of rain and sunshine, it’s just that some people make rainbows out of rain. And that was the truth, she finally understood.
She noticed two raindrops rolling down the window. She watched them with excitement in her eyes, and pretended it was a race. After this sudden realization, she felt younger. She felt stronger. Feeling goofy, she smiled for the first time in days.
***
Vinita Kumar is a Canadian student who enjoys bright sunshine, hot coffee, and sweet treats. She has recently graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree. She loves to laugh, listen, and love.
***
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