“I feel like an unwanted rug left under a tree for years. Like I have no purpose or relevance in this world. Just a disgusting old rug tossed aside.”
“How can you feel like a rug? And why have you been tossed aside?”
“That is a question for the one who once wanted me so badly that he wouldn’t stop following me around.”
The wine glass almost falls off the table.
“Have you ever seen those videos of how to clean a rug?”
Kira looks at Sara with a confused smile, trying hard to look cute to make her very drunk friend laugh, maybe a little. “Ok, seriously where is this conversation going?”
“First, answer me.” The sound of her hiccups gets louder with each passing hour.
“Yes, I think I have. And I understand that you feel like a discarded dirty rug that no one wants. Should I be taking you to one of the rug cleaners now? The professional ones.” She winks at her drunk friend hoping for a laugh.
“They use all kinds of soaps and tools. They power wash the dirt and filth out. It is a tedious process. One that is performed again and again until the ultimate result. They literally scrub the dirt out. You can see all the heavy labor when the water turns dark brown.”
“It is supposed to be satisfying to clean something that dirty. In fact, there are millions of views of such videos.”
“Sara, what is happening? You are scaring me, now? Why are we talking about a rug?”
“Well, Kira because I am that rug.”
“What? No, you are not. Firstly, you shower every day and you always smell of Rush by Gucci. And for god sake no one abandoned you under a tree.”
Sara is shaking her head from left to right, trying to sip wine from the bottle but it is only dripping all over her clothes ending on the rug. “I am that dirty rug. I feel like one. And I am trying to power wash myself with experiences, adding soap constantly of new knowledge but it all goes down the drain with my past. That is still stuck to me. No number of big machines are helping.”
“But you know what my biggest fear is?”
“What?”
“All this cleaning and power washing is draining my old self out. I want to look and feel different. I don’t want to be a shaggy rug I want to be those jute beige very classy but fucking hard to walk over barefoot kind of a rug. I don’t want anyone to just abandon me. I want them to watch it when they step over me because I will hurt back.”
“I get it. He left you.”
“No, he abandoned me. I am that rug under a tree.”
“Ok we need to stop drinking wine. That is enough.”
“Let’s have some tea. Which one do you want?”
“I am an abandoned dirty rug. Wait, did you say no more wine? But I need them they are my soap.”
“Right, soap’s job is all done now. You need to be power washed with clean water. So, chamomile, is it?”
“Yes, I will need a warm vacuum too dry up the wet parts.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I need a towel to clean your rug. I dropped a lot of wine here.
Kira’s head drops abandoned of any more thoughts.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 