The Big Fight
The night I said something I could not take back
By the time the fight began, small problems had been building for weeks.
Luka had borrowed my tools, and I had said nothing, though it had annoyed me.
That evening, I came home and found that he had flooded the bathroom again.
He had been testing a machine that had promised to clean shoes automatically.
Water had spread across the floor, and my important papers had been ruined.
I should have stayed calm, but months of suddenly exploded.
"You could have warned me!" I shouted, louder than I had ever shouted before.
Luka said he had only wanted to surprise me with something useful.
"You should have thought before you destroyed my work!" I snapped bitterly.
I told him that I should never have let a stranger into my quiet home.
The moment those words left my mouth, I knew I had gone too far.
Luka, who had always been smiling, went completely silent for once.
"Maybe you are right," he said. "I could have been more careful."
He had never looked so hurt, and I had never felt so .
That night, he packed the boxes that he had unpacked months before.
I lay awake, thinking about all the things I should have said instead.
I could have thanked him for the laughter he had brought into my life.
By morning, I had written a short, note of .
But when I woke, Luka had already left, and his room was empty.
Only his little robot remained, humming a tune he had programmed himself.
I realised that my quiet apartment had become unbearably, painfully silent.
I should have chased him at once, yet I had no idea where he had gone.
For the first time in months, nothing was broken, and I hated it.
Then I saw a single word he had scratched onto the robot: "Sorry."