Windy Skies

At the dining table he sat, staring straight at his computer. Yellow lights emmiting from the mellow spinning ceiling fan. Giving him light as well as wind for the night outside is rather windy and showing signs of rain. He had just been invited by an old friend of his to one of her events. He pondered about it, wanting to attend it, at the same time wishing that he could spend the saturday night in the warm comfort of his dwelling instead. He smiled while shaking his head. Afterall, an invitation should never be turned down, but then again, I guess that we should all leave him to ponder about it. He had more important thoughts on his mind.

On the dining table lay strew all his books and bag which he had taken to college during the day. Beside them lay the newspaper which he had just read while having his dinner. Dinner that he remained thankful for, but never satisfied. He never was for when it came to him, food had to be perfect. But then again, he would be better off having a distasteful dinner rather than going all night on an empty stomach.

Then, while typing, he scanned the dining table to see what was on it. Beside the neatly stacked newspaper, lied his camera. His one possesion that has allowed him to capture so many moments of his life. His one possesion which he would never give up.
Earlier, he had wanted to take pictures of the night sky. Skies which were producing powerful gusts of winds and whose clouds were filled with lightning. But unfortunately, after a few pictures, the batteries on his camere died. Leaving him rather frustrated. So, he decided to get back to his laptop and continue to type on it.

At the dining table, lay his books and bags. In it were three different types of homework for him to do. His final exams are less than a month away. He wishes to do it, but he doesnt want to. He just wants to sit at the dining table and type. Somehow, whatever sense of urgency he had inherited during the day are now nothing more than distant memories.

Its been almost an hour now, he is still at the dinner table, unable to finish what he started. The skies are no longer windy,the clouds have dissipated, the rain never materializing, his dad is at the dinner table reading the newspapers while having his dinner. He no longer feels alone and whatever sense of privacy he had is all gone now.

But I guess that it doesn't come as much of a surprise to him. That has always been him. A person who would do just fine in solitary confinement. A person who appreciates and enjoys the pleasures of being alone in his own world. A world where there is only him and no one else. Just like the pictures of the night skies which he wishes to take, he is that.