The Apartment With Temporary Curtains

When Tomas moved into the rented flat, he bought temporary paper curtains. He expected to stay only six months, until his separation was settled and life became recognisable again. Three years later, the curtains were yellow at the edges. Whenever a guest mentioned them, he repeated that he would replace them once he knew what he was doing next.

A storm tore one curtain loose while the window was open. Tomas taped it back, then noticed how much care he was giving an object he considered temporary. He had rejected invitations to decorate the flat, join a neighbourhood club or plant anything on the balcony. Waiting had become a series of practical decisions, although he had called it indecision.

At a fabric shop, he asked for something inexpensive because he might move soon. The assistant said the curtains could move too. The obviousness of this annoyed him. He chose a deep blue fabric, then worried that the colour made too strong a statement about a future he had not approved. He almost exchanged it for grey before leaving.

Hanging the curtains took the whole evening. They were slightly uneven, and the landlord might still decide not to renew the lease. Tomas had solved neither problem. Nevertheless, when a friend called, he invited her to dinner the following week instead of suggesting a café. She asked whether there was an occasion. He said no, then looked at the blue fabric and added that there was finally a room.