The blanket fort - come - den is complete. I didn't think I'd actually get round to doing it today, but there you are. My mum commended me on tidying my room to almost perfection this morning - little did she know that the main reason I did it was to clear the space for my den.
The curtains surrounding it have fallen down many times; at least twice each, I'd say, but I think we've finally got to the point (that is, my sister and I) where we can climb in and out without pulling down a curtain. Famous last words...
I’m in a small, blue place. There is nothing outside those thin walls.
When the lights are on inside and off outside, I can’t see out of the fabric, but everyone else can see me. Makes me feel like the woman in that song by Grace,
“What’s it like
inside your glasshouse?
People see in,
but you can’t see out.”
A wonderful song. No pun intended.
The walls are fragile, but they are there. Like physical extensions of my imagination.
I need more cushions, really. I could steal some of my sisters', but I'm not sure that would be appreciated. Now I'm finished I feel like I want to open it up to people. Not literally, it needs to be closed and quiet, that's the point, but to send out invitations. Allow others to come in for an hour and just... stop
for a while.
I feel safe.
It's a childish thing to do in one sense, but in another way it just makes sense. It isn't quite soft and close enough to feel exactly how I want it to, not yet, but I'm working on it. In the mean time I've fulfilled a childish longing and made myself a cubby hole at the same time. Tonight I'm expecting sleep.