I want yellow walls in here. And china with a modern pattern, I don’t want roses or violets on it. I want geometric designs. And I want the only flowers to be real flowers. Over there, on that window sill, where they’ll catch the light each morning when the sun comes up.
We’ll have to find something better than that ghastly jug.
Oh, I like it! It’s as if though somebody left it for us, like a little gift. And I want to smell coffee when I wake up. And bleach–because that means you’re here, or that you’ve just gone out. And when you come back in, I can say…welcome home.