"Floral, Marble, Wooden, Textured or Prints. Oh! Maybe I could do the the solids colours. Pastels or Brights. But will it go with the lightening. And what kind of furniture to incorporate- modern or maybe rustic." She throws all her stuff down the t...
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"Yes Dad. My flatmate is definitely a she," I lie to my dad on the other line. Right now, I am dressed comfortably in my pajamas and a baggy top and packing my stuff into bags and boxes.
"What's her name?" He asks me, sounding highly suspicious.
"Grace. She works with me," I tell him, having thought this through beforehand. I knew already my dad wouldn't be very comfortable with the idea of me living with a guy.
I had already sent him the pictures of the apartment and he seemed to like the place and the price too. But then, his first question to me was, "It's not a guy. Right?"
And of course, I lied. I can imagine in my head how his lips would purse or how he would pinch the bridge of his nose, if I would have told him that it's a guy. That too, an admirably gorgeous one. I could hear the no already in my brain. So, I decided to just twist the truth a little.
"Dad, I have to finish packing my stuff. Bye. Talk to you later. Love you," I end the call hurriedly, not wanting to unintentionally spill the truth.
I have packed most of the stuff. I didn't have too much to begin with. My eyes land on the shopping bag kept near my bed. I will definitely take this to the office tomorrow. I just forgot this morning.
I plug in my earphones and start the music. 'Lovely' by Billie Eillish and Khalid starts playing. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the music take over me. Picking up my brush pens and sheet, I start writing quotes to decorate my desk.
I stop after I have made five different posters. I pause the music to admire my work. I look at the last one I made. 'The best is yet to come'. Certainly, I think to myself.
I put the papers in the shopping bag and pack my art supplies, putting it in the cardboard box. Now that everything has been packed, I decide to take a shower.
Letting the warm water run over my body, my muscles relax instantly. After dressing, I go downstairs to find Aunt Hilda making cookies.
"Chocolate chip?" I ask her.
"Yes!" She replies, clapping her hands together, "Scott and his son, George will be coming tomorrow. So, I am making some treats for them. I was waiting for you to finish, so that we could have dinner," She says, putting the tray into the oven and removing her flour covered apron.
I returned back home at around seven-thirty and told her that I found a place to stay. She was happy, obviously. I asked her for some boxes and told her that I would first pack my stuff and have dinner after that.
I look at the clock on the wall, seeing it's ten already. It took me more time than I expected.
"Well, you didn't have to wait for me. You could have eaten and left the food for me on the table," I tell her.
