Yellow, Green, Blue – those are the colors of sticky notes posted around the wall; some have inspiring words and phrases, but most of them have none.
A man wearing a ripped oversized sweater and an old pajama is sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the wall across it. His legs are bended where his arms resting on top of his knees and head drooped.
The room is empty. A double size mattress laying on the floor at the right corner, and an overflowing trash can at the opposite side are the only things occupying the space. A blinding darkness will surround the room if it wasn’t for the sunlight peeking from the small gap between curtains. It was noiseless – noiseless until a soft sniff broke the long silence.
“This is not for me..” the man said in a very low voice followed by a deep sigh.
After one more heavy breath, he looked up and gazed into the wall. Slowly and hesitantly he stood up, focused a second on each sticky note before he decided to pull them out one by one.
As he reached for the last note, he stopped. He stared at it. He looked at the ceiling, closed his eyes and back on staring at the note again. He stared until a tear fell from his right eye. Then, all the sticky notes he was holding slowly slipped from his hands and fell into the ground.
He grabbed the marker and the remaining blank sticky notes then started to scribble. When finished, he sticks it into the wall. He stared at it for a while; scribbled again then stuck the third note into the wall. He stepped back, slightly tilted his head to the right, then to the left as he stared at the notes.
He smiled – then continued..