Window
I opened the window of metal and glass in the hallway of rooms with people living in it. Its coldness sting my fingers; an electric shock that jolted my body. I pushed it far away for the wind to graze on my face, both comforting and saddening at the same time. I took a step closer to the window, slippers clicked against the cold tiled floor. I stared at the yellow lamppost at a nearby lot, inhaled another breath as the cars honked nearby. I closed my eyes and counted. One to ten. From twenty to fifty. A hundred to a few more hundred, shifting my weight from one leg to another. I pushed my hair back and wondered how much of this night I could take. The sky looked the same, of purple and gray color against the yellow lampposts viewed from the window. The humming of the engines from the street is a lullaby I used to get by. But also lullaby that became my nightmare. I put down my phone, shoved my earphones back to my pocket, closed the window of metal and glass. I counted from a hundred to a few more hundred. Fifty to twenty. Then to one. Then zero became my last.