Moth

I sit at the table. And there’s a teddy resting under my chair. I sit here alone, in this room. No one knows I sit here. I don’t know whether it’s day or night, I don’t care. The air is light and it smells of quartz, so lulling. The whole room is blue, only the lamp on the table is pale yellow, like a moth. I sit here and dream, and I talk to the lamp. The clock on the wall is ticking rhythmically, like a metronome… 

I pick up the teddy from under the chair, and I put it on the table […]