Darkly treading, stepping fervently towards the light that should not belong. Glowing beyond the bedroom at the terminal wall, where nothing but brick and the outside world rationally exists. Door open, waiting.

Dilapidated, poorly painted and shoddy in décor.

Aligned with loose shelves of worn children's books. Frayed, stained burgundy carpet. Small bed stuffed with unkempt blankets.

Little girl dressed for a party. No parents. I apologize for disturbing her, close and lock the door. It fades until next time.