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MONDAY’S PROSE: MOODY ROOMS


The mood in each room was different, he discovered as he stumbled from one into the next.
He became familiar with each the moment he stepped into it.
The immediate former was full of pent up emotions relating to divorce-in-conception;
The less immediate former was laced in neck-deep debt, seeking repatriation
Now onto the latter; which was a breath of fresh air- no emotional clutter; seemingly oblivious to the emotional tachycardia that characterized its counterparts
This latter room had 3 chairs, 7 bags and 10 gowns, meant for whom? He did not know
A rude awakening typified by what sounded to him like the screeching of his full name, ending with ‘Charlie! Charlie!’; administered via the right upper limb of his ever-efficient brother
He sighed with disappointed longing;
Alas! He had been dreaming.

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