There's Been No Preference (Beggining)
From Create Your Own Story
Everything is white, but you were looking at a sheet of blank paper. You lift your head up erect and take a gaze around: the ground has no plasticity as the concrete chair ambles about the floor and trips over minuscule doorstops and pins. In front of you a window shows the sky, is complicated and cold; you remain in light because of the window and that alone. There is a relentless bleating emanating from the window's way. You oscilliate between the two things you have just seen and your vision is mesmerised by the cool pastel colours.
Throughout the room there is a pastoral and effervescent air, thanks to the fan. The fan is a pastel blue, but it's spinning and catches the sanguine wall. You look down at the carpet and perceive that it is purple. The purple is made caliginous under the desk and turns fuschia. The floor isn't by virtue of colours; it's been painted a royal purple. Nothing else in the room is a different colour to the floor; your bed is a phantom which you trip over a lot.
You contemplate how you would describe the room; nothing is salubrious about it at the moment.
What would you do?
