Just a Room

Soft music plays in the back of my head. I hear crickets chirping outside my window. A mile away a train rattles on its track. Fresh flowers give off a sweet fragrance that fills the room. Books fill the walls with knowledge. As I rest on my bed the headboard creaks. Street lights gleam up through my window. Doors open and shut down the hall. Shoes are strewn across the cold wooden floor. I scribble numbers on the white, lined paper. My desk is brimming full of papers and books. A bright light reflects off the smudged mirror. My delicate, paper lantern spins in circles when the heat suddenly blasts from the vent. My skin is warmed instantly. I have found a home in these things. It could never be "just a room" to me.