Ever felt like the walls and ceiling are moving inwards, like your personal
space is being encroached on, made smaller somehow? All I need to do is kick
back at my son’s place and lie on the couch, and instantly I have this sense of
being constantly watched. Like the eyes in paintings that follow you around the
room, weird and wonderful creatures look down on the goings on below them, and
I wonder what they’re thinking.
Note to self. Never sleep in a room with pine lining.
I think she spotted us
she’s staring, don’t blink
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