Could she stop daydreaming in time to move out of the ceiling’s crashing weight?
She stared at the ceiling often. It was ornate, pretty and scary all at the same time. It represented opulence and a life never to be her own. She was ok, however, with her chosen path of less. So what others had it easier? That ceiling, though, was scary. What if it fell on her? Could she stop daydreaming in time to move out of the ceiling’s crashing weight? Or would she be pinned down in a slow agonizing death? Was it the ceiling or life in general that she was worried about? Don’t know. Time to make the coffee.
Categories: photography, Psychology, writing