The gloom inside the house felt like an overcast of skies, making it impossible to feel relaxed each day after Denise is home after a long day of work. She wasn’t cleaning as she loved hoarding, side-stepping and turning in fluid motions. Plumes of dust erupted from the old things around, giving the air a musty smell.
But, times were different. This house, her home, once upon a time was where the laughter happened and she felt rested at the end of the day. From the street, it is bricks topped with tile, the same as any other. Yet if stepped inside she felt it so different, a place where her lungs choose to fill a little deeper and the heartbeat a little steadier.
Here and now, she decides it was time to breathe a new life to her old-fashioned parquet with a blend of deep homely browns and the walls painted beige. She fills cold running water into a bucket and starts moping the dust off the old memories, accumulated in years. She got rid of all the unimportant things, similar items in different shapes and forms, things that didn’t bring joy to her in days, months and years.
As she continued cleaning the mess, it dawned on her it wasn’t just the house she had neglected, she neglected her looks and her mind and her well being. She neglected her friends and the few people in her family who she broke the cords with a few years ago. She saw no point in anything, such was the depth of her derelict.
Shweta lives in Delhi, capital of India with her husband. She writes non-fiction, fiction, and poetry. She is a writer pursuing her passion outside her regular 9-5 job. Her writing is published on several Medium publications like The Friday Fix, Chalkboard, Literally Literary, Written Tales, etc. For complete works, visit her site: Wordsbake.