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The Condominium |
| Written by John Wells | |
| Saturday, 05 April 2008 | |
He had been out with a real estate agent looking at condominiums, and he found one where he felt aptly comfortable. The unit was rather boxy in its shapes of rooms. The walls were painted lime green, and the carpets were that shade of red one finds in those old movie halls. But he found a space here, a place where he could feel free. Even before he had put a deposit on the pad, he began to test out the possibilities of living here. With the approval of the real estate agent, he spent sometime in the place one afternoon, and he decided to throw a party. What a success that party was! He thought he might call this place ‘the party palace.’ Two of his best friends from ten years ago attended the party with a host of their acquaintances. Everyone was having a gala time. There was music, beer drinking, cooking, dancing, laughing, and lots of heartfelt talk. During the party, he re-introduced his friends to the crowd, telling them about their association together ten years ago. He said, “I want you to know who I am and where I am coming from. I lived with my mother for thirty-six years, and I lived in the same house with her for almost twenty-nine. And at the end of it, that is, after her death, and the remaining year in that house, these two people, my best friends, were there with me. I want to say to you that I have nothing against them, and I have never spoken anything contrary about them to others when they were not around. Yes, they did play their music quite loud, but only on a few occasions. I sometimes reacted quite hastily when this happened, but now in hindsight, I see it was because of the trauma I was experiencing. I had to endure quite a loss when I lost my mother and, considering the circumstances, I think they took it well. They have had their crises as well what with broken up relationships and dead-end jobs, but they are still my friends. We have endured the pains, and now we are ready for more happiness.” Everyone did understand, and they were all quite happy to be together for the afternoon. When the people began to leave, and he was there again by himself, he saw a future here. He felt the openness of the space. His spirit was renewed; he flew around the spacious rooms enjoying the freeness, but then he remembered, the place was not yet his, and he was not sure if he could secure permanent ownership. Real estate prices were dreadfully high in the city he lived. Maybe one afternoon of merrymaking was just enough for him for now. Copyright 2008 John Wells |
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