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Writer's pictureBrody Thompson

A Very Specific Feeling

April of 2022

My immediate urge is to document the date for later recollection, but that is of no use to me. I'll start with the surrounding conditions.


It was hot today. Hotter than most days. I had the opportunity to relax, and watch a movie.

As I watched the movie, the temperature outside, and subsequently inside, cooled. The air is agitated by the fans blowing at the door of the living room, and the window of my bedroom. This allows the distinct quality of what feels like a perfect summer evening to touch my nose. The grass outside was heated all day and now gives off a great aroma. The inside of my house is lit entirely in blues and greys from the sun having set earlier. The event of the sun setting may be important to the feeling. The end of the day. The only sound is the fan.


The perfect conditions to lay on your bed and feel reflective. I take small inhales through my nose to take in as much as I can smell of the air.


It's lonely. It's sad. It's subtle. I can't correctly describe it as a bad feeling. It only brings about awareness of my position. Perhaps, this is melancholy.


I'll continue on, by listing the situations I've observed this feeling before.


The summer of 2019.

I had been sent by my mother to take care of her parents in Bakersfield. The work was near nonexistent. My grandmother, a small hunched over woman, took care of meals, and most of the cleaning by herself, and almost exclusively asked for me to help hang laundry outside for it to dry.

I stayed nearby in case of a rare fall, or minor chore.

I had time to relax in the hot weather, but when the sun began to set- this feeling came.

Sitting in silence on the bed. Reading, thinking, or texting. The fan was on. It's distinct chopping and whooshing was a point of fixation when I sat there doing nothing in particular.

I had a cup of Gatorade, half water and ice, slowly collecting condensation on the outside sitting on the small bed-side table next to me.


The summer of 2021

I had entered into an exhausting new relationship with a man, who took endless issue with all mundane, and expected aspects of life. Having a lack of motivation, finding himself sexually, having a job, working to get better at his hobbies, and dating me.

He had taken a trip to Las Vegas to see a Karate Tournament, which left me in his really hot room. He had a fish, a computer, a couch, a bed, and a TV which I never used once I got the chance to get on the computer.

All alone, showering regularly, cleaning the house whenever I felt like I needed something to do, eating soup, and drinking sprite.

I extended my limbs out as I lay on the bed. The fan on, the outside smell coming in through the small dusty window in the corner, the light shining through the large panel windows next to the bed. I could hear the computer fan whizzing quietly under the desk on the other side of the sofa. I imagined my boyfriend coming home and being happy to see me. Hugging me on the bed, and falling asleep with me there. I hoped he missed me.

The specific feeling followed me into the shower as I kept the window open, and turned on the hot water. I felt clean and managed. The room was swept. The Items all put away. The furniture was positioned so I had enough space to feel comfortable. I played video games on some emulators I installed on his computer. It had been a week since I spoke to any of my friends or family. I was fine with that though. I was content having that space. I liked the brand of loneliness given to me by my unique conditions. The sun was setting, and kept the room lit just right. Moving slowly from orange to grey, and then a cold black which let me know it was time to sleep.


Summer 200?

I was a small boy. Laying in the bedroom shared by me and all of my brothers. No sounds being made. All trying to sleep. The small fan was hanging upside-down by its stand on the curtain rod, making small metal noises as it brought air in from outside. I thought about how cool Neopets were. I had a small few plushies from burger king which I adored.


This feeling is nostalgic, and I treasure it when I can experience it.




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