Story from 130816

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 130816 00:00

The slight depression in the bed could almost be heard through the hushed whispers that were unclear even to those who uttered them. The cold wooden floor seemed to dance, as if to respond to the quiet but not quite silent air that bounced around the room. You only ever saw porcelian people of shiny or reflective disposition in such a room, never the regular or absurd who would much rather watch the act than be in it.