A room that talks.
I try to ignore them the best I can.
An orange sky behind the red silk. Or is it velvet? Or linen? Polyester? No idea.
Maybe Sohee would know.
But she is nowhere to be found.
In our texts, she mentioned that she's busy today, buried in festival paperwork. While I'm buried in the voices inside my head.
"Why are you here all alone?"
That was the wall again.
I have learnt that it's useless to try talking to that guy.
Or any other furniture.
"You are so heavy today, dear human," says the couch underneath me.
"Sorry."
I shift a little to the left.
"Still heavy."
Well, what do you want me to do? Float?
My jaw hurts, too. A lovely souvenir from the coffee shop. At least the man who punched me had the decency to leave me with something to remember him by.
Not that I wanted to.
Instead of entertaining the furniture with my loneliness, maybe I should review everything I've done up to now.
Varrie first.
