2nd scene : the conversation

I pressed the home button on my phone and immediately the screen illuminated the room with a bright glow. I felt my eyes dilate suddenly. 3:30 A.M., the screen showed. Ironically this was the time that our parents told us the night before when we would be going to leave the house to start the four-hour journey south of the island.

By then, my brother and sister awoke from the disturbances I made.  I first spoke, half-jokingly telling them that it was already late. My sister just laughed. There wasn’t a need to rush because we already knew that there’s never really a plan to leave on time. That was the beauty about this vacation—time was a luxury we handled at our leisure.

The room of the old house we stayed at smelt of the aged polished hardwood of which the floors were made, the kind of smell that only true ageing could produce. It creaked every time I took a step, with each sound distinct and perceptible like faint human voices. As I walked around the room while briefly talking to my sister, the floor boards conversed with each other as well, and then at once only becoming silent at the moment I stood still to open the window shades. Though yet no sunrise, the natural luminance of the early morning found its way into the room and left only in the dark the silhouettes of the trees found across the street. There, at that moment, all of us remained silent. All of us hushed our voices and simply gazed outside of the window.

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