Blueberries

He looked around the room, and then popped a blueberry in his mouth. It was a little bitter but so what. It didn’t taste rotten. The room was warm, his feet were cold. His brother lay sleeping in front of him. He was sitting cross legged on the blue sofa. He looked at the series of cushions that had supported his head over the night. Pretty comfortable, he had to admit.

He looked around the room, then down at the container for the blueberries. With one hand, he popped it open, then with his right, he grabbed a couple and rolled them over before putting them in his mouth. They were smooth in between his fingers, except for the part that had been ripped away from the stems of the plant. In his mouth, they were juicy, and bitter. Not sweet anymore. But he loved blueberries anyways. So it did not matter to him. He looked around the room once more. It was messy. Mostly his brother’s clothes lying here or there, or on hangers on the doors of the many closets. Messy. 

A coughing fit racked him, he rubbed his eyes. He was tired. It had been a long few days. He was looking forward to getting back to his dog. Very excited. He imagined how she would yelp and bark and whine, and ask him never to leave her again. Complain about how he had left her. And she would try to lick his face and would not leave him for a while. And her tail would wag. No, he would not leave her for a while. He had no further plans to travel. Not in the near future, at least.

No, he would not leave her. He opened the case again, another few blueberries in his mouth. He winced. This batch was really bitter. He swallowed with a gulp. The room was warm, his feet were cold, his hands were in between. The sofa couch beneath him was starting to hurt. It was hard.

The sunlight streaming in was beautiful. It only came in partially, but the contrast really changed the texture of the room. It was a nice room, huge carpet. Huge bed. Fairly spacious, at least for this city. He supposed his brother was also paying the price that allowed it to be so spacious. He took another deep breath. He was tired, but refreshed. He had slept in, but he was physically and mentally exhausted.

He blinked a few times, his eyes feeling warm. His fingers hovered over the case for the blueberries, then he looked down, opened it, another loud crack, and popped some in his mouth. These ones were much better. Maybe it was just the last handful that had been bad. He cleared his throat. 

His brother snored, deep in the throes of sleep. 

Outside, cars whooshed by. It was a slow day. It was a Saturday, but it was almost ten in the morning. Not much sound outside, but for the wind racing the cars, the latter cutting through the former. The world carried on.