By Basma Elsobky
It was a weird kind of quiet.
Everyone was out and about, leaving me to begin my day with an awfully quiet morning. Even the cats that are usually surrounding my doorsteps, waiting at their marks and getting ready to leap with anticipation at the sound of the rattling and clunking of the keys against the heavy doorknob, and see the door crack open to reveal what is behind it, were nowhere to be seen.
It was weird not having my baby brother clinging on to me like glue, with his doe eye following me everywhere, believing that I knew everything. Sure, I have a younger sister, but the illusion that I knew everything went out the window, ever since she could talk; my brother on the other hand, held on to the illusion that his older sister knows it all and can do anything she sets her mind to.
I was drinking my cup of coffee in my usual spot, in the living room near the only opening providing views to the outside, yet acting as a barrier protecting me from the cold breeze of the outside world. Pulling the curtains that are embellished with matching green pears to the coach, a few of the faded light streaks managed to escape, faintly lighting the dark room. Grabbing a green cushion, moving my fingers over the soft fabric, I slowly sank further into the couch, thinking about how to spend the rest of the day.
It was dead silent. As the morning progressed, I moved about the house like a phantom roaming the dark nights. Nothing…nothing could be heard there was just…silence.
When I finally decided on what to do, raising the phone handle to my ear, the hairs on the back of my neck rose as soon as the cold metal met my skin.
“Hello,” I said. It surprisingly echoed.
“Hi,” my cousin answered.
“Want to meet and go shopping this afternoon?” I asked.
It was silent for a moment before she answered, “that’s a great idea. It seems like I have not seen you in ages.”
It was true. Ever since I graduated, I was occupied with preparing for university. It became harder to make plans and stick to them.
I hung up and ran up the cold white ceramic tiles, keeping my right hand clung to the curved out black and gold metal railing at all times, remembering the countless near-death experiences I had going up those flight of stairs. Going through my closet, I picked a fuzzy off-white sweater with sparkly gold stripes embellishing the fabric and a pair of lightly washed jeans to go with it.
Getting dressed and going down the stairs, ready to leave the house, I pulled my hands from the warmth of my mustard-colored crossbody bag to reveal my rustic keychain that had colorful yellow, red and blue flowers dangling from the reflecting metal loop, inserting the key into the doorknob, struggling to fight the wind that was pulling the heavy mahogany door in the opposite direction. Finally, managing to pull the door open, I was met with a gush of the cold winter breeze that for a split second made me contemplate if I should go out. Hugging my sweater closer to my body and letting out a deep sigh, I pushed the door shut, ready to pursue my shopping hunt.
