NICHOLAS
I am done.
I have officially finished this mural at exactly 7 am.
After all those sleepless nights, I can finally say I am done with this project.
I walked out of my studio after being cooped up in there for the last 12 hours.
I walked to the kitchen and saw Manang Rosa cooking breakfast as always.
I took a cup of her freshly brewed coffee and was about to drink when she shrieked unexpectedly.
"Whoa! What's wrong?" I said as I wiped the spilt coffee off my old jeans.
"We are out of baking flour." She said sadly.
"You do know I need to do my cake today for my friend's birthday." She said helplessly.
I forgot that Manang Rosa grew up around my parents' bakery. Baking supplies and her always go hand and hand. It is like breathing air.
"Can you get me some?" She said with her puppy dog eyes. "I can't leave the other food cooking in the oven." She pleaded.
I walked to the front door to appease her.
She smiled.
"Okay, okay." I said as I put on my battered sneakers.
I did not even hear the old lady say, "Don't forget to bring an umbrella. I think it's about to rain..." for I already closed the door behind me.
I walked around the block while I tried to find a store that is already open at this time.
It took me three left turns and six blocks down the road before I found the convenience store that was open. I bought the baking flour and left immediately.
I was just in the store for about five minutes and the weather outside completely changed already.
I felt something wet dropped on my white shirt and looked up instinctively. The clouds were getting darker.
I walked quickly back home but I think the rain was quicker.
It started to pour really hard and I can barely see where I was going.
Good thing, I had the baking flour wrapped in a plastic bag instead of the store's usual brown bag so it did not get wet.
I hurriedly went home and saw the front door flapping slightly from the gushed of the wind.
I must have left it open when I left.
I entered the door and called out for Manang Rosa while I took off my wet shoes.
I padded barefoot on the wooden floor towards the kitchen when I saw that my studio's French doors were open.
That's strange.
I never ever leave my studio doors open.
I walked quietly and heard voices inside the circular room.
"You have to leave now. If Nico sees you in here, he will never forgive you." I heard Manang Rosa's voice. She was speaking in rapid Italian.
Was someone harassing her? Do I need to call the police?
I moved closer to the door and then saw a person standing in the middle of my sacred space.
She stood there with her wet trench coat and a hand carry luggage with wheels as she was staring on the wall. All of her different faces and expressions stared back at her from the murals.
These murals have her beautiful face plastered on each one of the. These are our memories.
At least, they were my memories with her.
I froze on the spot and broke the conversation between the two women when I dropped the baking flour on the floor with a thud.