Yellow Victorian Divan and Balloon Animal Headdresses

There are about a dozen abandoned houses that are going up for auction.  Within those houses are rooms of furniture and assorted bits.  I claim a house.  I plan to open a bed and breakfast within.  I will refurbish all whatever furniture I can and sell the bits that don't fit.

After months of work of pulling off cobwebs and dust and old glue, I have reclaimed the old Victorian furniture.  The pieces are coming together.

One morning people pour into the houses.  They pull the paper off the walls.  They take the knick-knacks off the shelves.  They take the furniture.  They take the furniture.  They took the furniture.

I leave the house.  I wander away from the furniture that I have worked to fix.  The hoards of people have made the emerging beauty of the other centuries shabby and hopeless.  It is all lost.

I make my way to a friend's studio. She looks at me and tells me my hair needs fixing.  She takes my hand and leads me to the sink and a chair.  After sitting me down, she twists a balloon creature out of silver balloons and fixes it to my head.  There is a silver droop down flowing from the back of my head.  On the top of my head, the balloon forms eyes that peer out of my hair.  She says I am better now.

I stand up and go out to get back my yellow Victorian divan from the old house.  The eyes in my hair blink in solidarity.