The Ragged Robin

Ch. 8

[Page 70] Before I became an atheist, my mother and I used to go to church when I was little. She would enact her will for us to shower by her friend's house beside the church, claiming it was more respectful to present ourselves unblemished. A ten-year-old me knew it was utter malarky that her breadthens would do that. But like most kids my parents were omniscient.

That being said, I am not against religion (the architectural feats of religious settings stuns me) but it can't be helped that I became less filial as I grew up. In a way, being religious is similar to maintaining relationships because both require faith of one another in themselves. It is with that very same belief in others that they are of similar kin and personality, like how the goodwill of God is aligned with that of most people. It may manifest as a different form whether it be religious or social, but the essence of such emotionality is deduced from one's heart. The human heart really is a funny thing, being able to interweave the most beautiful of connections in one's psyche.

Having bathed in Serene's bathroom, I wore what seems to be a magenta tank top and white sweatpants. I don't usually see her wear sweatpants, and why is it more comfortable than usual?

"What kind of sweatpants is this?" I projected my voice from the bathroom.

"It's hammer pants, hermit." She replied a room away from me.

"Can you speak louder? I can't hear you."

"Long pants."

"Anyway, the size is alright though it's a bit suffocating. I won't wear them for long and will drop them by tomorrow when I get back."

"It's ok, I wanna see you play in that. Wear something tasteful, would you? My wardrobe is a mess anyway." (301 words)

[Page 71] The house was stripped of its individuality – Not a single soul hover by the walls or languidly pose by the dining room. The paintings left without a trace, for I examined the very same walls unblemished, running my fingers across without bumps. I hurried over to Serene's room to find her lying on the floor painting something. My feet made a creak as I entered. The floor wasn't even a labyrinth and I made way quietly, adjusting myself on the wooden stool she used to sit on.

"Keeping busy I suspect?" I started, childishly looking at the refurbishment she has made.

"Could you help prep some noodles? You can have one too. The bag I brought home earlier is by the kitchen."

"Can I see what you're painting for this one time? I know you have a thing where you have to do it alone..."

"Then get to it. I'm sorry but it's different, Julian. I can watch you play your composed songs but this art is lonely. It's a very mean art where I can only show you the finished product and nothing more! Oh, music is so wonderful from start to end to gift others like a cooking tutorial. I'm sorry."

"Have you forgotten the countless hours I devoted to..."

"Please... I'll give you that fucking kiss so shut."

"Wait, it's still in your head?"

"Make me the food, please. I can barely move."

Her head remained hidden and I have been talking to her back this whole time. I rubbed my forehead as I got up and gave her frail body a once-over. A fully-filled water bottle stands on her desk. (274 words)

[Page 72] Having skipped lunch, my saliva is rising an appetite in me serving as a reminder. The slow rumblings of the storm gradually lightened to tinkles as I stood by the kitchen windows, waiting for the noodles to boil. A sauntering figure came purring around me, waking me up. I put my hand down and raise my head, looking down to find her pug.