This room I visit never sleeps. It watches as I come to bed. It waits around me through the night. And when I wake and leave, it is there, silent and accepting, and will stay until I return.
Like every place we come to know, it is always ready. All places are a silent waiting for little lives to pass through, in routines, on journeys. They do not love, they do not care, but silently by being there, they let us know ourselves.
The room watches, so we know life a little better.