-1One by one, my senses begin to force their way through the haze. Hearing is the first to breach the surface--my ears are met by the faint sound of rain drumming like a million little fingers against the dirty window panes. I feel and the pages of a sketchbook draped open across my lap and a smooth wooden pencil in my hand. I breathe in the familiar scents of paint, wood, and the particularly peculiar smell of leaky pipes. Blinking away the last foggy remnants of that strange drug-induced trance, everything is finally clear again.
I squint against the brightness of the lamp on the table beside me-- the only object lending any light in the otherwise dim loft. Slightly reluctant, but I look down to see what so-called "masterpiece" I've churned out this time. I'm met with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and the image of a couple kissing beneath a red umbrella. It doesn't take much for me to recognize them.
But I also recognize something else. Something which makes this situation even more wrong that it would have been.
I manage to tear my gaze away from my little paper prophecy just long enough to glance uneasily towards the space beside the door. Empty. Of course.
I had felt that something was missing earlier, but I just wasn't able to put my finger on it.
It all becomes clear to me now, however, as I stare with tired eyes through the darkness of this steel box of an apartment.
She took my umbrella.
She's cheating on me…and she took my umbrella.