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It was the best spot in the house. The light was perfect for reading, needlework or just sitting. When I closed my eyes I could see a chair in the corner with a side table big enough to hold a cup of coffee or glass of wine. Along with a book of course. The chair would be large enough for me to curl my legs up on and tuck under by bottom. I would close my eyes and enjoy the sun and warmth on my face even in the dead of winter. All of this should have been possible, but it wasn’t. I didn’t have access to the best spot in the house. Nope. I could barely get half way into the room if truth be told. It was off-limits.
The best spot in the house was reserved for the flowers. The large tea trolley was angled just so to take up every inch of the corner and was rotated at precise intervals so that all flowers would have the best possible light to bloom. I couldn’t deny the flowers in a riot of pink, violet and yellow weren’t pretty. But seriously? Did they have to take up the whole corner where the best light was? It was also the nicest view which I got to appreciate when I stood half way into the room and looked out the window. Yes, the tea trolley took up that much room. Along with a large table also situated at best advantage to dominated the rest of the room.
Oh well it didn’t really matter since I hardly every spent any time in this room. There was no comfortable chair to sit in and the temperature was kept at the exact degree the flowers needed. Which was too hot for me. Hence, I stood half way into the room, looking out the best window, with the best light and again thinking dangerous thoughts of poison and freedom. I want you to know I would never dare use poison on the flowers – they are innocent bystanders in this scenario. I am not that callous.
PS I could be a flower lover if they were outside.
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