The room.

Festering sheets (months old) scuzzy tissues scurry from whence they landed stuffed toys with sentimental value overpopulate the slim frame while an enchanting mermaid doona entrances the sleeper into a time-warp enhances the twenty year old by coaxing out the four year old as fairies on sticks glitter from atop the cabinet unicorn wallpaper faded and peeling sprints (as wild horses do) around the amber glow pausing at the door with care Dylan Thomas Edgar Degas George Auriol and a giant sequoia tree (hacked from an old National Geographic) litter the walls while an autographed (by Robert Curran himself) copy of a Madama Butterfly programme looks on. The mattress is firm. The blankets are dusty.

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2 comments

  1. This is amazing! I started reading and the words kind of just sped me along and I was pulled into the writing like magic. Really good. I enjoyed reading this. Thank you šŸ™‚

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