I wake up and scan the room around me for a moment. I recognise it and sit up in bed and look again. There is a lamp to left side of the bed and I turn it on. The room is bathed in a shallow yellow light and I look again. I get out of bed and walk to the curtains, opening them I see that it is overcast, grey with no sign of rain. I turn toward the room and look at the bed. It is a double bed with plain white covers and white pillows. The covers are thrown into chaos but I feel no need to fix them. It seems like a paragon of cirtue, a dazzling gleam amongst it’s surroundings. To the uneducated, the swirls covering the beige walls may seem to be the handstrokes of the painter, expressing themselves in monotony; I know that it’s wallpaper. I look down and the pattern of the carpet is a maze of hexagons, a faded gold lining each brown tile; both colours are now faded. The TV sits on an oaken veneer desk with one chair, beige. The same veneer extends onto the wardrobe, to which I now grab the handles and pull it open. The motion of opening the wardrobe is smooth but at around 60 degrees there is a slight creek in the right hand door. I look at my clothes and pick out blue trousers and a beige shirt, it fit really well. Not thinking I walk out into the hallway and close the door behind me. It locked automatically.
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