Space 1
With eyelids filled with darkness you feel around looking for the edge of the bed. As your feet find the ground your eyes fly open. The cool, smoothness of the plastic white ground did the job that your alarm clock could not… wake you up. For half a second it has been forgotten where you are as you gaze out the many windows that stand against the long wall in front of your bed.
The world outside is entirely different from what is within. As the sun rises it shines through the faces of green leaves that press up against the glass. You slip back in to reality and acknowledge the surreal space around you.
On either side of this raised bubble of space, known as the bedroom, was a set of three stairs. To the left was a half wall that led to the bathroom. And to the right was a gateway between two pillars that led to the heart of the home… the kitchen.
Its artificial walls blended with the ceiling and floors as if they were two soap bubbles that clung together. Its white color gave the space a squeaky clean feeling.
They say that the best things come in small packages. And this tiny space was the perfect pop of home.
Space 3
As she dodges hundreds of mud puddles the rain attacked her black umbrella. A feeling of safety runs through her fingertips as she grasped the bronze door handle, and brushed across the threshold.
She shook off any intruders as she closed the umbrella and dropped it in the umbrella stand…
The warmth of the walls reached out to embrace her as if to welcome her home. Soft earth toned colors of green and brown hugged the nudes and popped off the floral prints. She took a deep breath as if she were taking in the scent of the honey suckle flowers embroidered on the pillows that sat at the door on the chase where she performs the daily ritual of putting on and taking off her shoes.
Just beyond the entrance way the kitchen lay straight ahead. With a flick of a switch the stainless steel danced with the light as if on cue. The deep ominous colors of the cabinets lured her deeper into the kitchen leading her to the fully equipped island as if it was refuge in a sea of pots and pans.
Generally the typical island is covered with sand and palm trees but this one had a sink, counter top stove, and a built in fridge. She smacked her lips in anticipation for the meal to come and reached for a pot hanging from above.
While waiting for the sauce to simmer she panned around the room figuring out what she could do to pass the time. Flashes of lightening created frightening silhouettes behind the fogged glass wall of the corner bathroom… So she chose not to venture in that direction. She wandered to the open living area weaving between the furniture then, she stopped.
The two items on her glass coffee table had captured her attention: the remote and a book that she had been avoiding. As she reached for the remote the voice of thunder murmured outside. She snatched up the book and headed back past the kitchen and floated up the stairs.
Hovering over the entire space, it was in her own personal bubble where she felt most at home, transparent, yet secure. Right before she delicately climbed into her bed she peered just beyond the glass wall. A feeling of disappointment immediately embedded the sheets.
She has to leave her bubble because she realized… she had forgotten about the sauce!!!
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