A Sense of Serenity

The melody of rhythm-assisted poetry resonated throughout my apartment. My apartment was dimly lit. I felt as if I was more productive in the darkness. Darkness seemed to give me a sense of solitude and confinement, but not the bad sense. I was sitting at my desk; far too immersed in my computer screen. This was how most of my nights were being spent since entering graduate school a couple of years ago. If I remember correctly, I was working diligently on a research paper covering the notion of a unified government. Globalism, if you will.

            I slid my window open, which screeched only a few times. The pitter-patter of rain echoed from outside. I really do enjoy those gloomy, rainy nights that everyone else seems to despise. The streetlights polluted inside of my apartment ruining my sense of solitude. But it did not matter. I needed a break from my work. I proceeded to my refrigerator, across the room, and grabbed a Capitol City Brewing Company Prohibition Porter. I continued to survey my refrigerator looking for something to eat, but could not find anything. I decided the beer was enough for now and opened it. I made my way back to my desk and plopped down into my cozy chair.

            I glanced at my watch. It was already well past nine o’clock. I decided it was time to quit for the night and saved my document. Furthermore, it was about time for a change of atmosphere and I switched on my “Easy Listening” playlist. The first track was “I’ve Got the World On a String”. I immediately felt a wave of well-being wash over me. I was finally free of any obligations, at least for the evening. I glanced outside and saw some undergraduates getting into some college shenanigans; I just sat back and laughed. At that moment it hit me. There was not much in life more beautiful and tranquil during a spring night than this city that I call home.

            I slowly sipped the last drop of beer in the bottle. The song ended and continued onto “Baby, Baby Don’t Cry” by Smokey Robinson And The Miracles. I adore this song. The way Marv Tarplin plays the guitar is just marvelous. His gentle but effective riffs being evident from the song’s beginning give a raindrop effect that mimics someone crying. But I digress. After being lost in the song, I stood up and sauntered back to my refrigerator. Just then, I peeked out of my window and noticed that the light rain had let up. I seized the moment and headed to my front door. I rummaged through the closet to find a pair of my Bean Boots and slipped them on. I then progressed to find my raincoat, in case it started to precipitate. I proceeded out of my front door, making sure to lock it on the way out, and strolled down the three flights of stairs leading to street level.

            It was an exquisite evening for an excursion and a lengthy breath of fresh air. By the time I finally made it onto the sidewalk it was approaching ten o’clock. Foggy Bottom was one of my favorite neighborhoods in any city and having had freshly rained only added to its beauty. As I sauntered down the street, I continued to admire the sheer beauty and placidity that this wonderful neighborhood had to offer. It may have been filled with slightly rowdy college students, but there was a certain feeling that no other place could replicate. It certainly felt like home. I passed gorgeous academic buildings, cloned dorm buildings, and extravagant Greek houses. I even spotted the house on Greek Row that I spent three years of my undergraduate years in. In my opinion, the house was easily the most beautiful and extravagant on campus.

            Sooner than I expected, I found myself at the borders of Foggy Bottom and decided to head back toward my apartment. I marched on only to find myself back at my apartment sooner than I expected. I glanced upward and discovered that I had left my window open. Not really making a difference, I shrugged it off and continued into my building. I strode up the three flights of stairs and into my apartment. My mind seemed clear. So clear that it almost seemed luminous in contrast to my dark apartment. I kicked off my Bean Boots and threw my raincoat into the front closet; I was never one to keep tidy. I listened closely to see what song was playing now. It appeared to be the sedating sound of  “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay”. I thought to myself, “What an impeccable song to end my evening to.”

            I meandered myself over to the open window and slowly slid it shut. I suddenly felt sleepy, but content at the same time. I slowly but surely made my way over to my wardrobe, slipped off my clothes, and slid into my loungewear. Now, only being a few steps from my bed, I slithered into it. Oh, the comfort of that bed; the warmth and coziness of that bed. I pulled the silky smooth sheets over my body. The world felt as though it was at ease. And I felt as though I was at peace, like nothing could go wrong.