chickendave

muffins

here is a magic story I run as fast as I can. Not because I have to, but because it's more fun that way. The echo of my shoes hitting the cold lifeless tile of the unforgiving darkness of the hallway is the only sound in the seemingly muted world. I push open the dull, unfeeling, gray metal door. Not stopping to close it behind me. The room I had just entered was just as cold and uncaring as the last, but had a kind of warm living feeling to it. The unlit paintings seem to watch you, disapproving of your presence. I slow to a stop, and turn to the frowning faces on the wall. On closer look the people in the painting look as though if you