It became my habit to look at the slither of light coming from the window whenever I open my eyes in the morning. As if my kind of day depended on how bright that light is.
My alarm rang at eight-fifteen in the morning that day, and I saw the bright sunny light seeping through the curtain. A good day indeed. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Just before I opened the doorknob, I heard a noise from the roof. I was like – you must be kidding me?
Then the noise stopped for a few seconds. When I opened the door, shards of rainy came down amidst the mild blue morning sky. I walked to the canteen as droplets patted my head and shoulders. The rain disappeared even before my bread got out of the toaster.
That was the day I was bound to fly home, for the first time since the lockdown.
I smiled at the thought that maybe the island wants to bid me goodbye.
It took me a four-hour Male’ to Singapore flight, a twelve-hour layover, and another three-hour Singapore to Manila flight before I reached the country. The ride from Singapore to Manila was cloudy and bumpy yet quite bright and sunny.
When we arrived at the hotel, it took us about two hours for check-in and quarantine briefing, and by the time I reached my room, it was half-past four in the afternoon already. The packed lunch that they handed me at the airport had gone cold and stale. The sun disappeared, and clouds hovered above the skyscrapers.
I took a long hot shower and rubbed myself off with dirt and exhaustion.
I still had a towel on my head when I made myself a coffee. Then I heard a light spattering noise. I looked at the window and saw water dripping from it. The world outside became gray, wet and blurred, and quiet. Engine roars and horns were muffled as they reached the 20th story of the building.
My mom told me that I always brought the rain with me, that there’s some inexplicable connection between me and the weather. And among her sons and daughters, it only happens to me.
Quite a coincidence. Quite a lot to be a coincidence. It could be hidden powers, like that of Storm, or maybe Vanya from The Umbrella Academy. Who knows? But since I don’t have any scientific nor non-scientific proof, I could not conclude.
I woke up the next day, and the world was still gray. It didn’t rain anymore, but it wasn’t sunny either.
But around five in the afternoon, a light sliced through the room. A kind of light filtered by the clouds. Bright yet colorless. Like a muffled sound. But at least I saw some sun. A colorless sunset. A tone between sepia and black and white. Between apathy and melancholia.
I made myself a coffee, marveled at the bright gray world in front of me, and thanked the universe that I am here.