the floor is grey, the walls are white with nails and cracks and whispering lines.
the dimmed daylight is falling through the rooftop window.
thoughts reflected on the floor. doors to other days and nights.
someones walk left a mark and a squeak behind.
a stick is leaning against the wall, tickling the surface.
on a screen, the universe is flickering forever. noise is chirring between the lines.
the stars spread under the carpet, talking with the dancing curtain. (Julia Steiner)