credit joann lee
He entered gently, breaking the shadows into planes. There wasn't much in the room to begin with. A dying chair, a broken piano and the tiles on the floor which were from the 1980s. The landlord seemed to be proud of that fact, vintage, couture artifacts, he had declared, as if those words could make this dingy place any better. Living here was the equivalent of living in a storage room, all he had to do was sit and become one with the furniture. But this was all he could afford. This was all he understood when he remembered that just across the block lived the girl of his dreams. Seeing her was like opening a door into a dark room with nothing but a piano and a broken chair. Then again, to him, the light was a pathway and the shadows stayed out.
