a trip, probably.

I sit at the kitchen table, a glass of hot water in my hand.

Steam rolls out of the cup, drifting upwards, softly blowing around my face before vanishing.

It's late evening and the sun is almost at its end. The sky is a cotton candy color, the clouds happily changing from pink, almost red, to blue.

The room is cool, and I'm not thinking about anything.

I stare out the window which is pleasantly clean. The view is the same as it is everyday.

But it's nice.

It's getting darker but I don't turn on the light.

My eyes move to the left, to the door. Our bags stand stacked to the side of the door.

The fridge is empty, the bed is made. I'm ready to go. But you need to come back first. So I calmly wait, taking a sip of water every once in a while.

Time passes unhurriedly and before I know it, the jingle of your keys and the rattle of the door makes me turn my head to the entrance way. I stand up and put my cup in the sink before making my way towards you.

You step in with a sigh, putting your keys in your pocket. You notice me leaning on the wall in front of you.

"Shall we?" You say with a smirk.