Literature
Nestled Like Spoons
The innumerable stars punching holes in the lacy black skies and the big grey disk of the moon are the only source of illumination for the small room. The shades are up, letting the soft, redwhitegold light coat the messy wood floor, with its four carefully placed, threadbare rectangles of carpet, the scratched wooden desk with its cluttered, colourful surface, and the full-size bed, the dominating piece of furniture in the room, the only concession to the occupants' new coupleship.
Everything is covered with a quiet radiance, a sheen of ice, which freezes the moment in time. Nothing moves not the image on the dark computer screen, no