Hazy Mornings

The Room.

Dusk covers a dusty room stuck out of time. Knick knacks and antiques cover the shelves and the walls. A clock glued to the wall ticks endlessly, never stopping.

There are three tables taking up most of the open space of the room. Plastic is draped over them along with a thick layer of dust. A doily lays torn on the floor.

A shattered mirror hangs on the wall opposite the clock. The clock is reflected in the shattered mirror not ticking. Beneath the mirror is a mantle. On the mantle is the faded picture of a little chestnut haired girl in a light pink dress holding a once bright red balloon. She doesn’t smile.

Throughout the room is the stench of cigarettes. It sticks itself to every surface it can. There is a haziness that can be seen whenever the sun filters in through the only window in the room.

The room remains untouched. It is never disturbed. It is at peace and at peace it will stay.

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