Thursday, November 05, 2020

in a white room with no curtains

Stoic, severe, Scandinavian. Appallingly clean and neat. Sleek. Sunlight streaming in from industrial loft windows. Yet somehow warm and inviting. Was it the brilliance or the offsetting curves: a sofa, a spacious enveloping futon, an armchair, a bureau, an S-shaped marble counter, curvilinear lighting sconces. A white zigzagging banister leading nowhere. One floor. Open plan. One long and deep closet with a sliding glass door. Jeans, sweaters, dress shirts, dresses, one gown, coats, scarves, fedoras, trousers, pants, a single bathrobe (black). Posing as a museum, featuring an installation of nine lambent votive candles and Gregorian chant intoned from Bose speakers. 

Footsteps, the soft rasp of a key in the lock, the jiggling of the door handle.


No comments:

Words, and Then Some

Too many fled Spillways mouths Oceans swill May flies Swamped Too many words Enough   Said it all Spoke too much Tongue tied Talons claws sy...