Still Life

Bowie jumped on the couch and sat beside me. And after glancing at me briefly, proceeded to lick at his paw. 

It was a hot afternoon, yet I held on to a mug of coffee. I couldn't bring myself to cook, and I wasn't really hungry, so the coffee would do. 

There was a story I had been wanting to write. I thought about it a few weeks ago and had been formulating it ever since. It was to be a political allegory of sorts, set in the prehispanic era. I have done some research so I can build on its foundation but just haven't gone around to writing it. I figured it wouldn't be a good idea to write something that I haven't thought through.

I took a sip from my coffee and stroked the fur on Bowie's back. He turned to look at me and gave me one of his customary slow blinks before he went back to his reverie. 

There was a book I had been looking for, it was a classic by Fyodor Dostoyevsky about a man who suffered severe mental illness after being imprisoned underground. I called several bookstores the other day and asked which branch could have a copy. 

Finally, when I woke up earlier, I saw a message from a staff member in one of their branches saying they have the trade paperback copy. 

I didn't respond, as I was unsure if I still wanted the book. I hardly recall why I wanted it to begin with. I surprise myself at how whimsical I get sometimes.

Bowie stood up and stretched. I took a final sip at my coffee, and stood up myself, then brought the mug to the sink. 

I planned on going for a walk later in the day. But it was just mid-afternoon, and it was still pretty hot outside. So I went back to the couch and laid my head on the backrest for a while.

Bowie was then sprawled on the ground. He probably felt he could no longer ignore the afternoon weather by staying on the couch, and found comfort on the cool tiled floor. 

I massaged my temple with one hand. It gets so humid and warm in the afternoon sometimes that I get migraines. 

Then I shut my eyes, kept myself still, and tried to relax. I remember the guided meditation in the yoga class I once joined. After about an hour of going through a series of nearly impossible ways of stretching one's body, we went into meditation. We were taught circular breathing, where you inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth. After a series of these, you get into a certain calmness. This I did, as I kept my eyes closed. 

True enough, it calmed me thoroughly and I fell asleep. 

I had a dream. And in it, my mom won the lottery. I called her up and asked her for two million. She said she would wire it to me, she was just in the middle of something important and would send it to me when she was done. 

After what seemed an eternity, she called me up and told me about a business venture. She had it in mind that garlic is more expensive during the rainy season. And so she intends to buy a truckload in the summer and put it in storage, then wait it out before selling it. 

She believed the idea to be foolproof. She forgot that I asked for two million. And I also did. But it didn't matter. 

I woke up after that. I woke up 'cause I heard Bowie meowing. The room was dark, and I could only see Bowie's silhouette as he stood by his bowl. It was nighttime and he was hungry. 

'Okay, okay.' I said. 

I went for the light, took his cat food, and poured some into his bowl. I reheated the remaining water from the kettle and got myself another cup of coffee.