Rolled out the new rug. A sort of turquoise between bold and pretentious with swirling abstractions. Polypropylene that tickles toes into remembering a childhood spent tumbling and twirling on persians.
A new rug, a do-over for its predecessor that had fallen prey to regurgitated rainbows of a stomach flu. A new rug, adding soft luxuriousness to the everyday hullabaloo of sibling wrestling matches and monster truck races. A place for the family to engage in some dinosaurs and ladders or snuggle into Pixar. To cushion one’s bum while tending to domestic fatigue with a glass of red wine. To pounce on a grain of rice soaked in potent turmeric, like a stealthy lioness, only to return to a bloody puddle.
Soaking new stories into an old turquoise rug, awaiting levitation to a whole new world.