I sit on my wicker chair in the room I am renting in College Park, Maryland. My room, although overwhelming at times, is my sanctuary. I hear the buzz of the fan in the bathroom next to me, and the not-so-faint yelling of the guy playing video games in the room above mine. Next to me is a half-drunk glass of lemon water sitting on my desk. The desk, an antique teak wood writing table with a water stain on the right side, was my grandmother’s. It now lives in my bedroom, and I keep my t-shirts in the two bottom drawers. On my desk are two starfish, a bundle of dried flowers, a glass figurine of a seal and an evil eye bead I found on the ground at a park last year. The plant sitting on the left of my desk reaches towards the sun. As I sit at my desk, I can see the window next to me; the sky is clear blue – no clouds – and the leaves on the trees are rustling in the light breeze. This is my favorite weather. It’s my favorite time of the school year, it is cold enough to wear jeans to class, but warm enough to wear a t-shirt or a light sweater. But I’m sitting at my desk wearing leggings, wool socks, and a yellow sweater because we still haven’t turned the heat on in my house, and my room doesn’t face the warmth of the sun.
No comments:
Post a Comment