Split Second

I was sitting alone in my room, looking outside the window. It was raining, I could hear the rain make a small sound against the window, and the tiny drops on it. I looked across the room and I saw the statuette I keep on my bedside table; a man and a woman, dancing, a smile on their face.

I closed my eyes, the room changed. Everything was in black and white. The statuette wasn’t there anymore. Two people were dancing in the middle of the room, dancing to a familiar tune, they seemed really happy. I walked up to the door, it creaked but the dancer didn’t even notice me, so I figured they weren’t even seeing me. The apartment only had four rooms, so I walked to the kitchen, which also served as a dining room. There was a baby, sleeping soundly, he looked so peaceful, the room seemed so peaceful, it seemed as though the only sound was coming from that tune.

I opened my eyes. I was back in my room. It seemed as something so little, yet it meant so much. Immediately I could hear cars, construction works, and the peace was broken. Then I had to go to my usual job, and work, and everything was completely, pointless.

I looked at my parent’s photo, that statuette again, and thought, how nice it would be to appreciate the little things.