Agony-Fueled Art

23.

My most sincere and simplest 'simple' lacks superficiality and every reproving aspect of me would be a life where I wake up, greeted by the chirping birds and the gentle touch of the sun upon my face. I rise to the purring of my cat, peacefully slumbering by my side. With a sigh, I leave the comfort of my bed and make my way to the tiny, cramped bathroom of my modest apartment. It may be the most affordable option in the city, but living alone grants its own sense of solace.

In the bathroom, I wash my hair with an organic shampoo, a luxury I indulge in despite its costly price tag. A bar of soap scented with the essence of flowers accompanies my cleansing ritual. I step out and towel myself dry, preparing for the day ahead. A pink blouse with a loose ribbon, white slacks, and matching white heels become my armor of choice. As I apply my makeup, I rehearse the words I'll speak in my morning lecture, my mind focused on the class to come.

Ready to face the world, I grab my tote bag, its weight reminding me of the responsibilities I carry. Making my way to the kitchen, a space that serves as both my dining area and living room, I place the bag atop the table. Papers from last night's session, the work of my diligent students, await my attention. I set water to boil, a precursor to the hot chocolate I'll savor later at school. The aroma of a meal prepared the night before lingers, a reminder of my frugal yet fulfilling lifestyle.

The kettle's whistle breaks my moment deep in my thoughts, and I hurry to silence it. With deftness, I prepare my hot chocolate, a cherished drink that still brings me comfort even as the years have passed. I reflect on the choices I've made, the constancy of my love for writing, my affinity for feline companions, and the lingering curiosity of what life would have been like had I pursued a more practical path.

However, I may be poor, but in my heart, I know that I possess a wealth of happiness that cannot be measured.