HiveComb

At exactly 8pm in the evening the table was carefully arranged for friends and though only one chair would have been set out that evening. A cool music on set playing John legend “All of me” mixture of light casting the chairs shadows across the neatly arranged table and almost close to the plates. Steam rose from the freshly cooked meal, hovering into the quiet air as if searching for company. But the friends are yet to arrive only the sound of cool music, playing in the background.

Ifeoma sat down quietly, arranging her dress as though someone might notice. For a moment, she stared at the empty chair arranged across from her. It had once been occupied by people, by shared drinks and stories, by a presence that made even the simplest meal feel like a celebration. Now, it stood as a reminder, not just of absence, but of change.

She picked up her fork, paused for a while, then took a bite. The food was sweet and delicious, surprisingly so. She had followed a new recipe, one she had always been too busy to try before because she had no money. As she chewed, she realized something quietly powerful, this dinner, though without company or friends, was not empty.
The silence began to feel less like loneliness and more like space-space to think, to breathe, to exist without expectation, just the quite song going through her mind. She poured herself a glass of juice, raised it slightly, and smiled in a pretty way.

Speaking to her self she smiled again

In that moment almost 10pm, the table no longer seemed incomplete, it felt like her friends has already arrived. It was simply different. And perhaps, she thought, there was something beautiful in learning how to sit with alone and have fun, to enjoy one’s own company, and to find warmth not just in others, but within.

Dinner for one, she realized, was not a sign of loss. It was an invitation to rediscover oneself.

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