Stranger

The door opens and the sound of footsteps stops nearby for a while.
Then, the door on the other side opens and there is a sound of water.
When the consciousness that has been rising subsides again, there’s a sound of a cloth rustling.
Again, the footsteps stop nearby.
My consciousness repeatedly comes in and out. 

All the noises disappear with the door being closed.
There’s the sound of footsteps running in a hurry and rustling sounds somewhere, but there is no sound that annoys my ears.
Absurdly, a complete silence pulls me by the hair. 

As I open my eyes wide, the ceiling with sunlight permeating through the blinds enters my sight.
Unlike my throbbing face, my body is refreshed.
I don’t know how long it’s been since I slept this well.
However, I strangely feel angry because I slept like a log.

When the view that can’t be in my life fills my eyes, I slowly think about what happened yesterday.
Was the door sound earlier, a sound of the entrance door getting closed? I put my feet on the floor.
The floor that is not cold convinces me of the reality.
I get up and walk to the man’s bedroom. 

The door is opened, and I can see all the inside without needing to act cautiously.
When I enter the room, the first thing I see is the big bed.
There’s a gray blanket disheveled there.
Next to it is a small drawer and such, and one wall is filled with a built-in closet.

The closet is open.
The same black suit jackets, pants, and white shirts are lined up.
As I take a look slightly, all of them are from the same brand.
There’s also no big difference in their design.
There are also casual clothes, but they are only comfortable clothes for home wear.
I touch the neat neckties, then I open a drawer.

There are only three watches.
All of them look expensive, but I can’t know whether they are real or fake.
In the first place, I don’t even know if they are branded items or not.
Once I close the drawer, I see a door inside the room.
When I open the door, there’s a small hallway with a mirror and there’s another door inside.
It is a bathroom, and there’s a bathtub here.

There’s nothing to see inside the man’s bedroom.
It is a space that only functions as a bedroom and dressing room.
Walking out of the room, I open the door in the other direction.
It is a room with half of its sides filled with bookshelves.
There is a big round chair that looks very comfortable under the window.
If I sit there, I feel like my body will get buried.

This is the only place arranged warmly in this cold yet deserted place.
I don’t want to enter it, so I quickly walk out.

Next is the second floor.
I slowly walk up the stairs, but there’s really nothing there.
I sit on the sofa after coming down from taking a look at an exceptionally dark place.

I have nothing to do.
There’s also nothing that I must do.
The man left without saying anything to me.
Where did he go? Is he really a prosecutor? If the man had actually read the books filling the bookshelf in that room, he might really be a prosecutor.

Spending time without doing anything like this is comfortable, but also uncomfortable.
Somehow, the sun has already risen more and its light pushes through the blinds.
Last night…… I think the window was opened.
I get up and open the blinds.
The scenery I see from the high floor in the morning is abnormally dazzling.

Looking up from the bottom was breathless.
Stairs that seem endless, slopes-like alleys that require climbing up, and houses that are no different from tightly attached shacks.

Looking down from the top makes my heart empty.
It feels like everything fills it wholly and then is pushed away in an instant.
I close the blind again because my head turns blank.
I lay down on the sofa and put the blanket over my body.
A strange feeling hit my eyelids.

When