I watched how the waters condensed and decorated the glass walls like shower curtains. Perhaps, it’s cold inside. Or outside. Who cares? Just behind the glass walls, the indigo sky had become its darkest color. The couple beside me said it’s black, but it’s not black – it’s a color slowly approaching black.
I stared blankly at my coffee. Cold, cheap coffee. The caffeine smelled the same. It tasted the same. The place just kind of makes it cheap. A cold, cheap coffee. The ice had melted, and the once dark brown gradient had slowly turned into the colors of the grassless hills on spring. Waters had melted.
The man in dark clothes seemed happy talking to a girl with dark clothes. Are they a couple? I guess. The girl looked fine. The man looked fine. How lucky they are to afford a treasure. A smile. How lucky they are to have a treasure. Are they a couple? Yes. Their waters had evaporated.
My waters had dropped. They dropped like the waters on the glass walls, slowly skating towards the floor. My waters had changed my color. They decorated me and washed away the dark brown gradient painted on my skin. I see blue. Or indigo. Indigo in its darkest colors. My waters had not evaporated. I waited. No sign. Waited. None.
A smile. How lucky they are to have the treasure still. The couple in dark clothes stood up and left. Maybe they want to bathe under the moonlight. Perhaps they want to gaze at the darkest indigo colors. Perhaps they want to spend their smiles and buy something much more worthy. Pleasure. Maybe their teeth and lips would now go together.
I envy them. I envy their evaporated waters. The steam made them smile. I wish I weren’t like the glass walls. Maybe I’m cold inside. Or outside. Who cares? I want my skin could remain its color. But I’m addicted to cheap coffee, and my obsession with it made me turn into one. My colors had changed. I wish I could have dark clothes.
The waters had dropped entirely. It reached the floor. A single raindrop turned into a waterfall. I looked back when the indigo was still blue, but I couldn’t get any hint about where the waters came from. A spring? A river? A sea?
It’s one A.M., and my eyes looked like polished crystal. It’s so clear that I am confused about why I can’t make sense of what I see. Is it a matter of sight? Maybe it’s a matter of hearing or touching or smelling or tasting. Perhaps it’s a matter of feeling.
I wish I had bought a much more expensive coffee. Perhaps, I deserved a decaf. No, it should be alcohol. I should be drunk. I should be too drunk even to notice the droplets skating flawlessly towards the floor or notice the vivid brown turning lighter or maybe notice the happy couple giving signs to kiss outside. I should have been drunk even to write this. Indigo. The night sky had become my color.
I looked at myself. I prayed so hard to the one above the darkest indigo to stop this. I looked back when it was all blue. Light blue. I looked at myself. At last, the waters had evaporated. Steam. Smile. Treasure. For a moment, there was steam. For a moment, I smiled. For a moment, I was glad to have had afforded and possessed this treasure. For a moment, I looked at myself.
But then my waters started to drop again.
