The pink house

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It was like a candy house, in a pale pink color, like cotton candy. The roof was made off graphite, dark grey colored, just like her eyes.

“That is my favorite part of the house,” she said, taking him back to reality. He looked into the direction she was pointing at. “There’s an attic with sloping ceiling, of course”

“So what if it’s a sloping ceiling?” he asked, intrigued by the explanation. She sighed, as if she was tired of having to explain the same thing over and over again.

“Well, an attic without a sloping ceiling is not an attic,” replied the girl, as if it was an obvious remark. “Come on, I’ll show you”

 

I’ve always had a thing with pink houses. In my computer, I’ve got saved some pictures of different ones. They’re just magical and always prompt me to imagine weird scenarios where a little girl lives in it and has a a secret attic where she likes to read, write, listen to old records and basically, where she daydreams.

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