Taking in the view
The first rays of light descended on the green slopes, as he stumbled askance, in search of his glasses. The room was cold. His bed, somehow colder. As he put on his glasses, his view of the window blurred, hinting at streaks of yellow and red on green. Wiping them clear, he stepped out of bed, taking in his surroundings.
All things considered, it wasn’t much. There was his old, once-sturdy desk in the corner, and his creaky chair flanking it, often borne down by the weight of his thoughts. His books, decorating the shelves, dusty on the outside but brimming with color on the inside. His eyes turned to the faded jade teacup sitting by the end table, a remnant of travels gone by, right next to some flowers. Slivers of light began to make their way, illuminating more of the dimly-lit room. His clothes lay in a heap, beginning to take on that faint odor that exists between clean and questionable. Rounding it off were the pictures perched on the mantelpiece, a trip to the park, the wedding day, their children. Something stirred in his eyes as he took them in, a creeping feeling of warmth, of color- and then he straightened, the moment had passed.
“Could you bring something by!”, he called out, to the caretaker in the next room. He was promptly proffered tea in his customary cup of jade, and with it in tow he settled snugly into the rocking chair by the window, edging closer to better take in the morning sun in all it’s glory. Green was bedecked with gold wherever he cast his eye — the sun bringing forth little pockets hitherto unseen, shining on flowers in unexpected corners. A few goats had made their way to the slopes that day, and a few marmots courageously peeked out too. The red spire of the local temple gleamed forth, almost beckoning him to it. Spring was in full bloom, and unabashedly sunning itself on the front porch of the Himalayas. It was beyond a shadow of doubt his favorite part of the day.
Slow sips of tea were interspersed with him craning his neck to see more of the valley. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his neighbor snipping away at his daffodils. Friendly fellow that, but talked ever so much. Never really stopped or took a moment, which always got on his nerves. Friendly enough, by all means, but exhausting nonetheless. Quite unlike his old unit, unfortunately. They were good people, solid and dependable, steady but lamentably dispersed. The memory drew a quick glance at the mantelpiece once more, one picture in particular, but then he swiftly turned elsewhere.
It truly was a beautiful day out. Maybe he could head for a stroll. Another sip, and he could see more people milling into the temple, accompanied by the faint din of a distant bell. Given the day of the week, it was highly probable that there would be multitudes of delicacies making the round. The prospect was alluring indeed. There would be the sheer joy of piping hot snacks, safe within the warm blanket of sunshine from the cold mountain air. On one hand, there would undoubtedly be people, but then on the other hand, there would be people. He sighed ruefully, hand outstretched, and then abruptly drew himself away from the window.
There were things to be done. Letters to be sent, packages to be opened, thoughts to be penned. So much to do, and such little time to do all of it, or to even take in the breathtaking view. Quickly finishing off the last few dregs of the now-insipid tea, he sat down at his desk and began drafting one of his letters. Suddenly, halfway through the document, he remembered something he’d forgotten in the other room last night, and promptly set out to retrieve it.
The caretaker stopped by, and was surprised to find the room empty. He walked up to the glass to take the cup away. It truly was breathtaking — abounding with color and light, flowers in full bloom. He reached out his hand to wipe out a tiny blemish on the glass, and that was when he saw in it : there was bright blue ink being spilled on the paper. He turned around, blotted the paper dry and left with the jade cup in tow, leaving the room as it had been.
Turning back for one last cursory glance, he saw light streaming through the room. Chuckling to himself, he walked away.
