Fiction Series - Story Nine

There’s something about this ambience for I gravitate towards it. It has the most elegant ceilings with long glass chandeliers with the perfect pristine shine as if sparking up the entire lobby was its only goal. The sofa across this lobby is so vintage-like that apart from implying that its over many years old it also possesses an edge of glamor and wonder. The Italian marble floor without a stain or crack, simply implies that it’s meant to be flawless. Oh well. Also, the lighting it gives out the most obvious explanation that it's supposed to be yellow-golden-ish which is spread everywhere for the ever-calm mode to be on.

The half drunk glass on the table, it’s going to be cleaned up eventually.

The man waiting for someone in the lobby is going to meet his needed companion, eventually.

The small meeting that is taking place on a small table alongside is going to end, eventually.

Waiters, helpers, women and men keep rushing in and out , deliberately.

And here I am, checking in, scrutinizing this scenario and thinking that its content and actions are so obvious, hotel-like. Still, this bothers me. I am still amused with this surrounding even though I have been here many times before, checked in many times, stayed at the same room and yet, I fail to not be fascinated.

I unlock the hotel room and saunter around with over a million thoughts in my mind, I gently open the balcony door and look out what the scene has to offer. Beauty I’d say, with the sun setting and laying its rays on that particular chair across the pool making it stand out among the others while illuminating it and throwing out its orange hue all over the sky.

I’ve been to this room many a times before, it’s just a comfortable connection I have developed here. Maybe it’s the dark thick curtains near the window pane, or the angular chair and table near the bed or the bedside lamp giving out little but needed light during the night. Maybe, all rooms look alike yet the bonding exists, with this one in particular. And I sit here bemused, again. With the same room I’ve always been in whenever I’ve checked in at this hotel.

After my shower I think of going down to the posh bar and treating myself to some drinks, since being here isn’t helping much. Tonight, I choose to dress well, with no particular reason of course. I put on a red dress that hugs my body perfectly with a low cut back and black pumps. I dry my hair out of its wetness and apply my favorite lipstick that I’d spent a fortune on and smack my lips in order to ensure the color has reached every crease of my lip in order to avoid any uneven patches, I carry my clutch and walk towards the door.

As I begin to unlock the door with its golden metal handle I allow a tinge of light to enter my room from the outside. I can see the hallway, it’s dark and gloomy. Not dark without lights, but dark without life in it. The red carpet passage doesn’t look appealing anymore , it looks more like a death road to me. My heels refuse to balance, not because I can't stand straight but because I want to fall down. I see a couple getting out of their respected room and walking out the passage like it’s an ordinary thing but not anymore for me. For I refuse to move on. 

The glum lighting is apt, it dissolves me into a sense of numbness so desperately. It’s just like I wish to drown, deeper. With somewhere to go, no one to see, an unknown destination. I want to dive into utter madness, the sensation of being in your arms. The gentle tips of your finger touching my cheeks creating a fire within me. I wish to feel , all of it. The eye-lock, making my heart pound impatiently. The heart, beating faster by the minute and I wonder if you'd flick or just move your eyes anywhere else, I'd die right there as if staring into that wondrous pupil is my only lifeline.

 Our ambiguity fades out. Leaving me here stranded, right in the bottom of my heart. I am not even looking out for help, this sadness is enough to keep me sane, since I can connect with you because of this sadness. It’s essential for my survival . I let go, I move on and then I stop. I let myself believe that I've entered the next step only to lie again. For it's only this much that my heart can hold and only this much that I can love.

With a blink, it’s all gone.

I quickly shut the door behind me, blocking the outside light from entering my room.

I trot my heels and walk out the passage.

And I whisper to myself . “For at the end of my tunnel, maybe there’s life”

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