She

I sit on the balcony writing a book. Without notice, a small mug of green tea stands on my table. She has left it as I was working all day being unbothered about her whereabouts. Whenever she sees me working, she walks in quietly leaving me with munchies every 3 hours. Roger that. I didn’t give myself the time to appreciate her. All of a sudden, I encounter writer's block ceasing my flow.

Night falls, I wrap myself in blankets. I crave to give a rest to my eyes. Preoccupied with something that wakes me up constantly. I get off the bed and lean against my window. Loneliness strikes me. I stand there gazing at the empty roads and flickering lights. The street dogs howl, making me nervous. The night is cold, very cold. Literally and metaphorically! It is me. I want my dreams to reanimate. But life keeps testing me. The existential crisis, it is. Random thoughts hitting my face make me apprehensive. I back off. Heading towards her room, I stand numb staring at her. She was awake with my childhood album in her little arms! She rises keeping the album aside her, walking towards me. That warm smile brightens up my coldness. I lean forward to hug her. "Without you, I'd never feel okay, little one.”