On Being In A Small Room

Being in a small room calms my heart and soothes my soul. A glance concludes almost as fast as it begins and it assures of the absence of space. Treasured trinkets litter the table top and academic books and other necessities add volume to the three bookshelves above which reminds me inkblot tests.

Lying in my supertwin bed, I feel comfort in the fact that there is simply no more space for a second person. The queen size blanket and me; we rule the roost here. Snuggling under the sheets, I indulge in the trapped air molecules and drift swiftly into sleep.

A small room is also convenient. Everything is within reach. Phone; check. Water; check. Seems like everything is in place.

Now I’m a large room. A room too large for my body and soul. Wishing for Mother’s hand to hold me the night, what I got instead was a single blanket for a queen sized bed. Barely wrapping my body, I twist and turn to find various comfortable positions. Funny how I almost never did that before.