ALL THAT WAS LEFT BEHIND

A Theory to Complete the Song

            Perfection would take that all away from us.

            I breathed in, dusting the floor with my eyes, and wondered if my philosophy had shifted over the last few weeks. I hadn’t felt any different, so I figured not.

            I placed the little house on the coffee table in front of me, and thought of the morning placed before me, and of the mysteries it bestowed, and of the newness that I was yet to discover.

            Then I remembered my loyal friend, Samuel, and of how long it has been since speaking to him last. He must have been lounging around at his home, busy in the detective world, and far from his original promises.

            I continued to ponder on his whereabouts, and his exact circumstances, and numbly bit my lip. The cracking flaky skin broke off in my teeth, stinging my mouth with a dry chapped sensitivity.

            I had Matt send me the personal information from the wallet over the email. It was another thing that Claire didn’t know, and another secret occupation of my mind that she wasn’t aware of.

            Detached from what exactly I was doing, I arose and wandered into the kitchen. Stepping rather slowly into the room, I felt as though a million eyes were glued to me, following my every move in suspicion, and intensively poured into each detail of my careful manoeuvres.  I crept over to the phone cradle and plucked it from its sitting spot, then paused to think of where I put his card.

            I began shuffling through drawers, finding countless interesting assorted objects, but nothing of significance to my situation. The fridge. I checked the fridge, where Claire pinned up papers to remember, notes, and business cards. Coupons, Claire’s bakery cards, and a newspaper clipping were found, but not Samuel’s card.

            I stepped back in annoyance, taking a second to think. My eyes fluttered around the room, scanning it, and mentally checking any other place in the house at the same time.

            The thought occurred to me that it was perhaps hidden somewhere in my bedroom, so I carefully climbed the stairs, as quickly and quietly as I could, for as I wished not to disturb Claire.

            As I opened my door, my room was revealed to me in its still, soundless state. Sunlight illuminated the room, making it appear like a long lost treasure being awakened by the beautiful unearthing. Although I had a small pile of clothes abandoned in the corner, it still looked like the way Claire and Doug set it up for me.

            I trundled over to my bookshelf, for it has always been a habit of mine to place important necessities in that location for some unbeknownst reason. Sure enough, there was the keychain Terrance had given me, occupying the spot in front of my poetry books, unsystematic fragments of poetry my mother had scribbled down when she used to be in an inspirational mood, and of course, Samuel’s business card.

            I sighed in relief, and plucked the card from its tranquil sleep before hurrying down the stairs again. Finding the phone again, I anxiously punched in the number, but not before I realized what I was doing.

            What would I say to him? How was I even to know he would answer this time?

            I then worried that he would not in fact, pick up the phone to me, as I have had nothing but his answering machine in the past few weeks.

            Boldly, I enlightened myself that third time’s a charm. The numbers appeared on the green glowing screen in their perfect little sequence, and I awaited his voice. I listened to the blistering rings and took the time to gather my thoughts.