A blue carpet ran the hallway. Right outside my door and became a deep white right outside my door. There was a table at the end of the hall, near the end, pressed against the wall. And then a window with glass. I ventured out only in quiet and I could stare at the famous portraits — painted, pointed into corners of rooms I’d never visit.
Footsteps in the Hall
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A blue carpet ran the hallway. Right outside my door and became a deep white right outside my door. There was a table at the end of the hall, near the end, pressed against the wall. And then a window with glass. I ventured out only in quiet and I could stare at the famous portraits — painted, pointed into corners of rooms I’d never visit.
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