Diary Entry...

She turned the key, entered the apartment and felt sweet and pungent smell of a chicken. “Anastasia cooked apparently”, - she thought and went to her room. The girl opened the door and, for a moment, stood motionless looking at the empty place surrounded by walls wrapped with green and somewhat funny wallpapers. Little ducklings, cheering ladybugs and small colorful hearts on a light green background were greeting her every time she was entering the room. They didn’t lighten her mood though.

Like a doll moved by a puppeteer the girl put down her bag, took off her coat and two shiny, silver necklaces: one presented by her mother and the other – in the form of flower with a little ruby in the middle – was from HIM. She sat on the bed and started remembering why she was so reluctant to go home.

HE wasn’t in the room anymore. He wasn’t there to greet her, and a symbolic sofa they were sleeping on was now folded, staying speechless in the corner of the room. And it wasn’t just about sofa – every piece of furniture contained their memories. Too high chair to sit on, which they were using as a stand for a computer was reminding about her “hey, please, don’t tickle me… ha-ha-ha… I might kick the laptop accidentally”. Scratched and weather-worn umbrella was expressing an abundant walks under the rain: “my love, hurry, the rain is getting heavier”. However, the sofa was something more: “Love, do you want my pillow?”, “Kalimera, my angel, do you want some coffee?”, “How about some sandwiches? I know that my baby is hungry”.

Everything in the room was reminding her of the love of her life.

There was no “Welcome home, love” anymore, no “How was your day, my angel?”, no “I missed you so much, matakia mou omorfa”… He was Greek and every time he was addressing her in his language she felt like the words were coming from the deepest corners of his heart.

With all those thoughts, a shrill, piercing noise broke out of her mouth and it seemed that the rain overtook her in the room making her face wet and gloomy. The moments of lust, love and laugh were passing in front of her already red eyes – the pain got bigger. Somehow, a dark emptiness made the girl unwillingly stand up, change her clothes and go to the kitchen to grab a piece of cold and greasy pizza left from yesterday. It’s been an hour since she’s back home…

The girl was sitting on the bed trying to finish that not entirely fresh pizza. A laptop was laying on the chair and the umbrella was resting in peace from their last walk under the rain. She felt cold... The girl stood up, grabbed a pen, wrapped herself with the ink-stained blanket and with another wave of emotions started writing: “I turned the key, entered the apartment and felt the distracting smell of well-cooked chicken…”