Aislynn Whalen

Return

Tossing and turning within the overbearing heat of a comforter, sweat slamming into the mattress. A tangled heap of fabric and flesh shot upright looking desperately for any sign of freedom. Eyes roamed the near perfect room, glancing over the rainbow scribbles in the corner that contrasted the slate blue walls. A singular oak wood dresser took residency in the corner, not a single mark on its reflective surface.