I called my mom and told her I was going on a skiing trip.
I love adventures, something thrilling. Don’t you?
The snow tumbled over the mountain, but still I trudged on.
Nothin like a nice adventure.
Finally, my little house.
It's a quaint little place. Feels a bit last decade, but I like that.
I entered the wallpapered rooms and sat down at the table, looking out at the beautiful yard. It looked so boring. So many ways I could decorate all that blank snow.
I smiled wide, raising my coffee mug.
“Please-”
I sighed and rolled my eyes.
“Can’t you be quiet for one moment!?”
So distracting.
I got up, my shoes falling heavily on the floorboards as my stiff legs made their way. There was that little door. The door to thrill, adventure, entertainment.
Freedom from boredom.
And I gladly opened it.
Inside was a dark broom closet. I felt around in the dark til I found it. A key.
I turned the key and the wall popped open.
With great ease I pulled it ajar and went in, closing both doors behind me.
Inside was my special little art room.
I sighed with contentment, looking around.
Metal and sapphire.
“Please. Please!” She begged.
She hung from the ceiling by her arms.
“I can’t feel my hands! Please!”
I smiled wide again. “You won’t feel your hands anyway, love.”
I said politely.
She was so selfish. I was numbing them for her! Then she couldn’t make all that commotion when I removed them.
