Forgotten Keys

Forgotten Keys

The shiny keys rested on a dusty dining table, waiting to be held on the way out. He picked them and whistled his way, walking out the door. Reaching the lobby, he sees her. She is there, waiting for the elevator. His mind is occupied with gushing thoughts about the interaction he could have with his love interest. His mind was in the clouds, but words choked up. He re-presses the button for the elevator. He waits. Heart is still pounding so hard with the feelings all smashed into his chest, now sweating and hands are shivering. 

Entering the elevator, pressing G never felt so nervous. Her head is in her phone. She knows nothing about this one sided mad love. The lift descending never felt so short, although it was just 8 floors down. Somehow, he just didn’t want her to leave. Those were the shortest 32 seconds ever. He walked diagonally to her and said no words. A tingle of sadness stung his fingers as he walked out of the towers. He wanted to hold her hand and tell her all the things, but just couldn’t.

She smiled at him, waved at him bye and walked past him, sitting into a pre-booked Uber. Her perfume was so strong, it lingered around him like he had the quickest hangover. The phone tucked into his pocket rang. He frantically picked it up, still staring at her Uber trying to catch a glimpse of her, as he was losing sight of his love interest. While pulling out his phone, that shiny pair of keys fell into a drain. His mind was too occupied with happy, blurry thoughts to realize that he lost one and only a pair of keys to the apartment. 

It started to p[our heavily, and he just walked along the footpath of this beautiful city. He could now smell fresh soup from far off. He finally realized that her fragrance was long gone, lost along the way on his walk in the rain. Sitting down, ordering for his favorite soup, he noticed something’s missing. Something that is important yet didn’t realize he lost. He murmured to himself, “What could it be? Was it her presence? Was it her belonging? Was it, oh no, is it my key? Where is my key?”

Meanwhile, the soup arrived, and he pushed aside the worry of his lost keys and indulged in the experience of hot soup and heavy rains, once again lost in her thoughts and stared out the enormous windo

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w that was covered with mist. He finished his little restaurant stroll, grabbed a handful of mouth freshener and left. Walking back home, all he could think about was her. Her manicured hands, the way she walked, her eyes, her hair perfectly trimmed and blow-dried. She looked beautiful. She looked divine. 

He whispered with confidence, “She has the key to my heart.” As soon as he heard himself say ‘key’, he realized it’s already midnight, and does not have the key. “Where did the time go?” He looked around and understood that there are no shops open and no one would make them, right now.

He bothered little, shrugging his shoulders he continued to circle around the towers just thinking about her. His mind was lingering to those special few seconds he had with her in the lobby. He was now tired of walking, and just sat outside on the benches memorizing every micro mini millisecond that she was beside him in the elevator.

Just when he thought the day was over. He smelt her from miles away. He followed the fragrance and the breeze that tricked him to walk all the way to the lobby. She is there. She looks drenched, tired and exhausted but still so beautiful. She awaits the elevator and asks if he wants to come in. He is so lost in thoughts and doesn’t know what to answer, ends up saying ‘no’. He quickly changes his answer to ‘yes’ and steps in. “Sorry”, he said, lowering his eyes and mentally crushing himself with ‘what a fool you are’ soaked with embarrassment. She smiles and nods. They both step out of the elevator, 8th floor walking back towards their own apartments. She rings the bell and a little voice greets her, ‘Mumma, look what we did at school today’, and the door shut. 

He stood outside his apartment. He had no keys. Her kid’s voice made him realize it was all unreal. The imaginary world he has is all a scam. And the worst, he locked his mind with wishful stories only to be locked out of his apartment. Instantly regrets and shakes his head, notices a newspaper lying on the mat that he stepped on this morning. Dusting the newspaper away he picks it up and reads ‘Quote of the day’ that made him chuckle. It said ‘Integrity is the key to a clear conscience.’ He turns his back to the door, sits down on his doormat and sighs.