Violet sat in the corner of the room as she watched flocks of people come in and go out, their whispers filling the space with gloominess that slowly filled her lungs until she couldn’t breathe anymore. She stood up and swiftly made her way out as in not to draw attention to her departure. She kept looking at the floor avoiding any eye-contact, pretending she was invisible.
Once outside she made her way to the yard and hid behind the building. Sitting on a ledge, she took out a cigarette and lit up. The first puff sent shivers through her body; she exhaled the smoke and gazed at it as it drifted towards the sky swaying gracefully with the wind. She closed her eyes knowing that she’d be in that room again
It was dark, it must’ve been late afternoon but she couldn’t really tell as the only source of light was a window covered by a heavy satin curtain dyed in a deep of shade of burgundy that cast a somber shadow on the room. Violet didn’t remember how old she was. Unlike most of her memories that seemed to play in her head like short movies, this memory was an image and she was fully present. The room was filled with antiquities, beaten up by the force of time; the old wooden clock sitting in the corner, and her sitting on the couch.
Like most things in the room, the couch felt like it belonged to another time. A Victorian heritage decomposing with time, she realized that nothing was ephemeral, not even dead nature. The velour fabric was showing signs of decay, the royal olive green that it once adorned was now fading under the rays of light that managed to slip past the curtain. Spots of its original color remained in hidden place as if to remind her, like everything else present in the room, of the treachery of time. Violet sat next to her grandmother and watched her in amazement as she took out a cigarette, lit it up, and drew her first puff. The room was suddenly drowning in fog as a thread of smoke escaped her grandmother’s mouth and twirled up towards the ceiling, engulfing the ancient crystal chandelier. In the midst of dead nature, life would generate from the smoke, the crystals and the small beams of light. The room would sparkle, it was magic.