Unfinished

Sunlight spills onto the hardwood, seeping through a crack of the hallway’s last door. Steps echoing heartbeats, click, click; click, click, a building crescendo like coming thunder. A hesitant nudge spreads the door's gap, releasing an ominous creak with a surge of sun. The thick silence swallows the sound, and the purple-walled room smells of cucumber melon. A gray sweater hangs on a swivel chair, resting lifeless beside an unmade bed. A dried palette hardens on the desk, a brush paused mid-stroke on an interrupted painting. Shadows stretch long against the weeping walls, longing to wear the half-painted canvas. light fades to the sunset, and the empty room exhales, mourning the life unfinished.