The day I packed into the house,there was a man at my door. There was an aura of coldness around him. He smiled at me but I could see sadness written on his face.
“Hello. Can I come in?” he asked.
I wasn’t going to allow him because I have never seen him. I don’t know who he was. But there was this strange feeling I had about him. I couldn’t fathom it.
He looked at me. His expression was relaxed. “Don’t worry. I won’t harm you.” He smiled with all sincerity.
I allowed him in. He stood beside my reading table, glanced at everywhere and turned towards me and heaved a light sigh.
“I still miss this room. Everything in it,” he said.
I looked at him without uttering a word. He opened the door to the toilet, glanced at it and moved to the kitchen part. He opened it too. I was confused about the whole thing.
“Why did you leave this room to another room if you would still come back here checking it out?” I asked out of a little bit of impatience.
He stopped, turned his back towards me.
“You don’t get it. This was my room before I died,” he said.
My knees became weak, my hands became numb, my heart started racing, my strength failed me. I backed into the wall.
“Say what?!” I asked trembling.
But he was nowhere to be seen.