To the Owner of the Vomit Stain...

To the owner of the vomit stain,

Thank you. I have long felt the hallway leading to my room was lacking that special something that made it "home." Be it the scent of three day old vomit or the aesthetic appeal of the little chunks that might be half-digested tomatoes, I now come home with a renewed sense of welcome. The discolored splotch of carpet seems to writhe up to greet me, as if to say, "Why, hello, Jes. I missed you!"

As I trudge homeward along the goose poop imbued pathways at the end of my long days, I find myself wondering if the stain will still be there. It's been two days, I muse, surely its owner must have come to collect it by now. I simply can't imagine the kind of generous person that would grant me this kind of joy for so long.

The first day, that first fateful day, when I left my room in the morning to meet the rancid scent beyond my door, I thought with wonder, What a gift! What a precious gift today has brought! Vomit! Yes, vomit! A blessed offering that I assumed I would not long know. But day passed into night, and as I scuffled through the hallway I was delighted to see that you had not come to collect the scraps of food and drink you once hoped to digest. My friend remained. There. On the carpet. In the middle of the hall.

By the second day, I was sure that you would not want to share the precious gift of your regurgitation with me any longer. After all, you took the time and effort to spew the contents of your stomach in the hallway. I did not. And so why should I be so blessed to share in the pure joy of its company?

But on this, the third day, I almost feel as though you have abandoned your vomitus. The stain on the floor remains as splotchy and chunky as the day it first appeared, and I sense a sadness about it now. As much as I love coming home to the spatter on the rug, I think it misses you. You, the owner of the vomit stain. It seems only right that you rejoin it, embrace it, claim it as your own. While I will miss its enduring presence, I know it misses you more. So, dear owner of the vomit stain, I implore you to come find your barf and take it home, so that it can know your lasting love instead of my fleeting fondness and brief flirtations.

Most sincerely,
Jes