“I feel empty sometimes,” she says, lying on the hardwood floor, her arm resting on her forehead.
Teague follows the hypnotic rotations of the ceiling fan, counting the number of spins just for the heck of it. “Empty, like emotionally? Or empty, like existentially?”
She ponders over it. “Both.”
“It doesn’t stop, does it?”
“It does,” she whispers. “But then it comes back with a vengeance.”
“I know.” Teague stands up and walks over to the window. He places his hands on the glass and marvels at the scenery. “But then this happens.”
Haven arches her head back to see what Teague is talking about. She rolls over and sets her elbows on the floor with her chin resting on her hands. An inadvertent smile breaks out across her face.
“Every night,” he continues, “this is what I’m looking forward to.”
The hues of the moonlight and sunlight colliding with each other, refracting into an amalgamation of wonder and colors. The flashing cars speeding across the long roads heading for their destinations. Teenagers gliding ahead on their skateboards, earphones plugged into their ears. Life – shifting and still at the same time. His gaze lingers on a woman standing with her arms hanging limply waiting for the pedestrian signal to turn green.
Haven sighs. “Do you think they all feel empty, too?”
The signal light changes but the woman remains glued to her spot. “I think they do.”
– Rubani Kaur
Photography Credit: Yours Truly