Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Notes of a young Journalist (Three)

Five days later I entered my house on the second floor after the painting and the fixing missing little things the previous occupant had messed.

The empty huge single bedroom house swallowed up my belongings. From then, my brain started running wild of ideas of how to get the beautiful curtains, a big metallic bed, a 21 inch flat television, classy sofa set… All that wasn’t backed by the pockets.

I untied the tiny military thin mattress and threw it in a corner of the bedroom. Pilled clothes on the wardrobe shelves; I had no hunger, and pushed the suitcase above the wardrobe.

The remaining task was to open the box full of literature and shoes. The offloaded shoes were on the wardrobe already had cobwebs, and cockroaches that ran faster than my swinging eye pupil.

My sitting room door and window had no curtain. It is only the bedroom that got lucky to have my Kikoi spread across covering a bigger part of the window but the remaining bit continued penetrate light into the house more so the sunrise rays.

The kitchen was smelling paint and filled with old newspapers. I added a plastic cup on the bare shelves.

Stepping into the 1X3 metres bathroom I hanged the towel and checked the toilet flash just to prove it functioned well. I picked an old broom from there and swept the house and later socked a grey t-shirt and dragged it to mop up.

Shortly Baix came in surprised of what I had done in a short while. In his hand, he held two bed sheets and he suggested we fix them as curtains on the sitting room which we did.

We later went to the balcony and talked the entire day sipping coca cola. A good style to catch-up with memories, and build up on the future on a Saturday afternoon.

posted by ombui at 10:53 AM | Permalink |