It's the only thing in this room.

And she's lying on top; looking at the ceiling.

Her hair's spread out underneath her, that's how she likes it..and her arms are stretched out and she's wearing this green thing. It's really thin and flimsy and half of it drags on the floor. It's all covered in dust. The whole floor is. There's lots of lace. She loves lace. It reminds her of plants; of ferns specifically, so does the word 'filigree'.

It reminds her of India too. She's going there. Going to India, and those sort of wooden screens, and Elephants and just, generally...India. Okay, so maybe it's a bit of a romanticised view, but it's one she's going to pursue.

She's got really long fingers and finger-nails. And they're covered in black nail-varnish, it's chipped, but it still looks pretty good. Her hair is the same colour as the table almost and it spreads out really far. There is a tiny tapping noise that resounds in the room; it's her rings, there's lots, as they tap on the table.

What is she thinking about? It's strange, when she has to work, when she really should do something of significance, she has no problem in thinking about something else, something irrelevant, but much more fun. She finds it very hard not to. It's very hard to listen to whatever they're saying..it really doesn't seem important. When she's by herself, when she has nothing to do, then everything turns strange.

She's thinking about gin. Just because it's a nice word. About how she might ask people to throw rice at her wedding, but then...it might not be nice for they pigeons...it's kills them or something...can't quite remember..married, maybe that won't happen. Hmm, she hasn't really considered that before. Well, it doesn't matter. As long as...as long as... well as long as what? What is it she wants to have happened?

Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending: