Set the Stage and-

The laundry piles up like nesting for the cats who choose marinated undergarments as headrests.

Flip flops lay around haphazardly, coming and going as they please.

The room is well-lived in; cramped. Never clean for long, even though cleaned often (kinda).

There are too many pillows though somehow never enough. And the hum of the AC unit bulging from the corner of the room accompanies each moment of most of the year.

But there is a softness here.

Making it one of the most used rooms in the house.

A shelter of sorts.

With a large window looking out into the wildness of a tree well-lived in by probably every bird on the block.

When suddenly, it collapses, crashing through

Turning softness into shards that splinter endlessly.

The dog bolts from his hiding spot under the bed,

The laundry blows away in the wind,

The kitten parkours in every direction,

Knocking pillows, knickknacks, and a shit ton of spare change onto the floor.

The flip flops scatter.

Nothing new there.

The chaos of the room takes on more movement than it is accustomed to.

A half-filled mug is shuffled and splatters below its old waiting area.

The missing hair elastics make a surprise appearance before being whisked away again by the whiskered bandit.

All the books fall down.

The piled bed sheets, the karate medals, and the damn TV too.

But let's be honest for a moment, does it really even look that much worse?

Apparently not to the black cat, still snoozing away in his favorite spot.

The bottom left corner of the bed,

Lying on an old smelly shirt.

Blissfully ignorant.

~~~

This prose piece was written at our Looking 4Words Virtual Writing Retreat last night!

The prompt was all about scene work: Describe your current setting including a “when suddenly” something wildly interrupts it.

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