My living room

A light revives her sight avoiding the numerous items of mess that filled the room. She sits on a comfy couch looking out of the window. Harmony expands familiarity in the conventional family room. The room is full of laughter, joy and sadness at times. A seven year old's toys have not been put in place. There are glass cups everywhere. Beneath the faded, blue rug vanishing bread crumbs nestle. They pray the mother has not added, any attention, hidden by the shadows along the length of a low lying table. The ground is a reflection of scattered thoughts; in the opposite direction school shoes are flung carelessly, in a place difficult to be found tomorrow in time for school. There is a half attempted word search that Kevin seems to have started but didn't bother to finish. A little elegant looking table that consists of old magazines, a newspaper and TV Guide from past years, still lies beside photo display frames which seems to have all been vandalised. A couple of black cushion slightly sit ruffled, resting on the couch against empty white washed walls. Under the collection of cushions lie hidden things: a tooth pick, earphones, loose change, remote control batters, and the occasional candy wrapper that constantly assumes the seven year old is at fault.

Morning begins and the long smell of coffee lingers, smelled from miles away, along the street to a great extent. The smell of burnt toast seems to never fade away. The toast crusts fill the coffee table, looking like a bunch of ants. Countless mugs are scattered on the coffee table. The over reparative argument voices over the TV remote control. Light flickers from news, carton, and Home and Away on the TV screen, the remote control thrown from one end to another. A forgotten school scarf lies loose on the couch, a piece of homework remains beside it and a backpack stands beside the door entrance. A pair of running shoes forgotten after a game hang outside the door.

The place is carefree and tends to keep energy going to extreme waste as an attention-seeking numbingly repetitive news reporter doesn't conclude the news and bring it to an end, seemingly to roll on unwatched. Yet everyone is bothered because it is still going. From the corner of a folded blanket a remote control is exposed, lying there with no care. The device symbolizes a great deal of power for a household to change the channel... or dare I say it, switch it off. From the numerous cushions that lie hopelessly on the couch, not minded, a remote control is exposed, lying there with no care. The entrance doors that swing back and forth, are left wide open for breeze of fresh air, to get the occurs of the faint of boy step smell mixed with deodorant.