She likes sleeping in the spare room. She cherishes the peace. Loves how books she reads at night come to life in her dreams. Forgotten childhood imaginary friends start emerging from the walls. Only sometimes will she be disturbed. Reminded that not even a shut door can stay slammed forever.
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Rapunzel shut the door and locked it. The twist-turned key and the felt-rather-than-heard snap of the bolt made her retreat seem something final. She hid the key. And cut her hair with scissors. ‘There. Out of reach of him now,’ she said.
But somehow she knew that was a lie.
The walls have soulful, hooded eyes and warm fishy breath. They speak of boiled cabbage, grimy photo frames, a tarnished fireside companion set but they have their secrets too. There is a hidden cupboard. If you push at the right spot , it will give in to your weight. You're through.
Ooo... I have friends! I have been away so didn't pick these up. Thank you!!
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