Sofia Wrecks a ChairSofia lived on Chryssen Street, where the houses folded themselves out like they came out of pop-up books and the alleys were nothing but pencil lines on maps: erasable, here one day and gone the next, filled with trash and turned inside out, turned into quagmires and marshes of garbage.Sofia Wrecks a Chair by kakashiplushie
She lived on the fourth floor, room number four-three-three. It was a room into where the moon liked to shine. On nights like these, when she didn't feel like doing anything and Gray was off on another of his last full shows, she liked to sit where the moonlight was brightest and watch everything fall into half-shadow around her.
Tonight, the moonlight favored the terrace.
She trod barefoot onto the cold cement of the open terrace.
It was a small place, some would call it cramped while others called it cozy. She was never good with words. Everything in her world was an outline, a picture, a silhouette that didn't need to be described; it simply was and there was no need to make existence any m