100 DAYS [SEONGJOONG]

[2] - ORANGE

99 DAYS

Orange.

A pallette of a blazing inferno.

An array of colors, an infusion of chroma, the firmament ablaze with the etheral glow of the crimson blush, the stretch of the infinite canvas splashed by the brushes of a dazzling evening, pristine and pure. A sweet view to stare at, to rest your gaze for a leisure and drink in the moment of ataraxia.

I perhaps was an exception to this, not interested to indulge my leisure in being a versifier. I had other things to cogitate about, things far more crucial than the surreal sight above.

I strided down the pavement, the prominent pandemonium of the busy city right beside me disappearing into a swirl of nothingness within my ears, my thoughts completely occupied by all the words I had heard previously in the infirmary.

A heap of aggravating contemplations gnawing within the walls of my brain.

"You have to begin your chemotherapy sessions from the next week," the doctor had instructed, scratching his pen upon the medical paper, noting down the names of the medicines I was supposed to intake, "And have these medicines accordingly. See you coming Monday."

What good would it all do, when the venom had already escalated in every nook and corner of my form. A span of 99 days. What good would it all do, apart from the ruination of money and time and all my strength. No one can prevent my demise after all, can they?

Wrapping my fingers around the cold metallic surface, I pushed the door of my house, the musty suffocating smell whirling within making an instant escape through the open space, dust and dirt occupying almost every spec of my domicile. I had no urge to clean, and acknowledging my short period of existence, I didn't put any further effort to it.

I walked indoors, pushing my shoes to one side and closed the door behind me. Placing my bag upon the table, I slumped back on the couch, not really caring about how dusty it was. My vision travelled to the window, through the open panes, the blush of the firmament now transformed into a violet hue, soft and melancholic, pretty picturesque.

The room reflected the confusion of bluish violet outdoors, as the dying Sun struggled to gift a final touch of scarlet to the approaching nocturnal spectrum. The exuberance in the twitters of the returning birds was audible, how happy they were to be back in their abodes. Crickets chirped and the ambience grew darker with time. My eyes felt quite heavy, and with a final view of the divine twilight, I let somnolence rule over my tired self.

It was past 8 by the clock when I rose from the couch. I switched on a light, looked around and felt really empty. Dragging myself to the kitchen, I grabbed a packet of cheap noodles, boiled it and made myself comfortable on that same couch once again, slurping the warm noodles away at ease. The thoughts didn't leave my memory yet, and, as I ate, I couldn't help but delv myself deeper into their chaos.