There are palm trees.
There are worn magazines and old scrawled books.
Colorful seashells and paintings emblazoned in color.
There are double sided mirrors.
Random chaos.
There are bright pink flowers in a pitcher once used for sugar water.
The old disc tape is Tanya Tucker, then Nancy Sinatra.
The old green colored phone rings constantly; why does it always ring?
The orange and white cat nestles in the tiny kitchen window.
The kitchen counter is covered in bananas, strawberries, and open potato chips bags.
It is warm on the balcony because the sun is shining brightly.
It feels close.
The randomness of this place feels oddly comfortable.
