Short Story
Sunday Blues
A short story on day offs
As one who emerges from the depths, he awakened. Slowly, the visions he had seen in his sleep disappeared, giving in to the sound of a calm pattering on his window. “So, it’ll be one of those days”, he thought. And because he had nothing better to do that Sunday, he decided to take a nap before actually getting up. He adjusted the microfiber blanket around his body, felt warm. And he let himself submerge again.
When he got up, the morning had already advanced. He put the coffee water on to boil; and made his bed. Drank coffee with a dose of milk and ate bread with butter while he watched the drizzle outside. The sky was cloudy, perfect for a day off — at least, to him. The rain had changed direction, so he opened the bedroom window so the apartment could breathe.
A moment for a decision: should he take a shower or simply change his pajamas for other clothing? Or should he spend the whole day wearing pajamas? He remembered the day he did that: when night came, he felt awful, maybe the pj was stinky. He decided to take a shower to warm up and shake away the laziness — despite it being an idle day, he didn’t want to spend it procrastinating on the cell phone, going from one social network to another.
He felt warm and refreshed after the shower. Closed the bedroom window, he didn’t want his home to get colder. Grabbed two books from his nightstand: an essay and a fiction. He remembered the song: “Um dia frio, um bom lugar pra ler um livro.” And spent the resto of that morning immersed on those pages, switching between the books after each chapter changed. Other people who enjoy the habit of Reading debate whether it’s best to drink tea or coffee while reading. He preferred to drink water — he didn’t know how to prepare the tea so it wouldn’t be too watery and black coffee left a strange taste in his mouth.
Time to cook lunch. Turned on the player and put it on shuffle mode. He chopped garlic and onion, put water to boil and washed the rice. Left the rice, now clean, with hot water in the pan to cook. Chopped a red and a yellow bell pepper (truth is the color doesn’t change anything taste wise, but it makes the dish prettier), put it in a pan with oil and salt. He cut an eggplant and put it in the pan along with the bell pepper. Chopped onion and added it to the mixture. Finally, he added some oregano and rosemary to add a little more flavor. His lunch was rice with “pan ratatouille” (if that was the original recipe for a ratatouille, he wasn’t sure, but that was how his mother called that dish).
A warm vapor rose from the food. When he chewed, it was as if his face was caressed — it was delicious. The food went down lightly, calmly filling his stomach. Comfort food. And he kept drinking water — it’s extremely important to keep hydrated!
During the afternoon, after washing the dishes and brushing his teeth, he decided to watch a cartoon a friend had recommended. A kid’s show called Hilda. It told the story of a girl who lived on the countryside and had to move to the big city — in both places, she encountered various magic creatures. Although the comics that originated the series were British, the creatures were inspired by Scandinavian folklore. It was the perfect show for days like that: a simple yet fascinating narrative; a different world that allowed him to forget the real world around him, even if for just a while. Time went by quickly, he felt hugged by each episode. Comfort series.
When he finished binge watching the first season the sun was already setting and with it’s departure, Sunday blues arrived. There was little time left for his day off to end, soon he would have to face another 5 working days until the next weekend. For a moment, he wished for a boyfriend to share that day — someone who would take the books from the right placing, who would leave the bedroom window open, who would make him forget that he had to work tomorrow. However, he quickly changed his mind: somebody else might not want to have a calm day off. Maybe he wasn’t ready for someone that would ruin his plans.
He looked to the window and saw a tempest approaching. Got yet another water glass and set at the edge of his couch. Watched as the tempest arrived, dominating the entire Horizon, and hitting his building. He could hear the wind whistling through the air current in his apartment. The windows shake. Water and more water pouring from the sky as if someone up there had turned on the shower.
As quickly as it arrived, the tempest went away. He watched natures strongest force follow its path, gradually disappearing on the horizon. Night time. He took a deep breath: “Dinner time.”
He ate the leftovers from lunch. Packed his things for work. Shaved his beard, brushed his teeth and took a shower (a second shower, after all his Brazilian). Dressing in his cotton pajamas, he wrapped the microfiber blanket around his body and turned off the bedroom light. Yawned. And allowed himself to submerge. Another week was about to start.
NOTE: This short story was originally written in portuguese for “A Escrita do Eu nos Detalhes do Mundo”, a creative-writing workshop taught by Davi Novaes at Núcleo Experimental.
You can read the original story in portuguese here:
