The Everyday Evening

The cold breeze came in through the gaps in the curtains of the balcony. A cane swing swayed with the movements in the air. The smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen through the hall whose walls were adorned with photographs.  Tara poured her coffee into a mug, the only one she used among the many she had. She sat on the swing with the mug of coffee in her hand thinking about all the events of the day. She closed her eyes and her daily routine played out in her mind.

Every detail of the day was clearly visible from the colour of her toothbrush to a faint voice that she felt every morning calling out to her though no one was visible. A lot had happened in the last year that Tara had not expected would have the outcome that it did. A few years back she had been a student, studying what she loved. Life events fell into place chronologically. Now she was a working woman, the term ‘work’ was not particularly appealing to her. She, Tara who believed that anything that one enjoyed doing was not work had been pushed into it. Every morning she woke up in the hope of hearing that voice call out to her, continuing her passion and breaking free from the confines of her mind. The voice called out to her in her mind and she could not get herself to shut it out.

A gush of cool wind interrupted her thoughts. The coffee had grown cold and Tara quickly drank it and went back to the kitchen. Soon the usual sounds of the water boiling and the sizzle of oil could be heard.  Tara moved from one task to another. Her mind was completely blank but yet it yearned to hear that voice once again. She waited eagerly for the doorbell to ring though she knew it never will.

Tara walked around in hope and anxiety. Her mind fought hard to make her accept reality, to fight her delusion but her heart would not listen. She soon grew exhausted and drifted off to sleep like every other evening since the fateful day a year back when she had heard the voice in reality for the last time.