The Room With A Fireplace
(Image source: freepik.com) “Are we dreaming about this or are we doing this?” was the first question I wanted to ask Ismael. The wind kept lashing at our windows and it sniffled and gave out a low moan now and then. A window had gone loose on its hinges. It is shut but continues to clatter in the wind. “This is no dream, we are awake, can’t you see the sea through that crack in the window? I looked. The sea felt on its feet today; a clumsy shapeshifting monster warming up to the moon and waking from its slumber. The room was green from mould and a diluted, airy darkness filled it. The faint light squeezed itself in by twisting its body along the edges of the crack. We had decided to shut ourselves inside the abandoned house near the sea for a night. A lot of thought had gone into it. Was it because we were two world-weary professionals trying to compensate by finding meaning in each other? I have found no clear answer yet. We needed to do this and i...