A Room with a View

My bedroom has two large windows that give out onto the world. Both of them have small balconies, and between these balconies is a sculpture attached to the building’s façade, affectionately nicknamed “My Nose.”

Whatever I need from the outside world is brought to me. This could be, for example, white cheese, carried by ten men who work in the nearby town’s delicatessen. While five of them hold the cool, sweaty cheese, the other five manoeuvre a large axe for slicing through it. Generous portions are then sent through my front door.

I can’t remember ever entertaining visitors in this house. I probably never will. My daily routine is a mantra wishing for acceptance of this solitary life, though I do like to sometimes shout guidance to the workers on the street as they handle my deliveries. They never talk back; they must be used to working in silence.

My home has travelled the world. It was located in London for nearly two decades. I grew used to living tightly squeezed against other homes, each one with their own unique and colourful balconies. I now live in the Brazilian countryside, with only birds for neighbours. They alight near my windows but never come in, though there is one great kiskadee who is courageous and curious. It seems to hear my thoughts from the nearby tree branches as it stares right in. But if I send it any blessings, it tilts its head in confusion and flies away.

When the sun sets behind the sierra, the cicada’s song fills my home. I close the curtains and lie on my bed, just one thought rising up: is this place finally it?

This is a submission for Week 2 of LJ Idol's Season 11.