The shadows of the leaves outside, flickering on my white startled walls on the inside. A strip and shaft of light spanning the wall closest to my bed. Curled up under the covers. Just enough to contain me against the slight chill in the air. Autumn rippling and I am swollen with enormous desire, the warmth of a lonely aftermath, trickling down my leg.

And the sheets are hollow. They speak little save the small smoothings and rustling underneath my heated body.

And the pillows are abundant. But they don't stir, shiver and wake in the midst of my ever needing comfort.

And the bed is creaking only to my movements alone. As I sit up to wriggle myself free from staring at the picture on wall.

Best to dye my hair today methinks.

Bree