28 October, 2011


A middle
a muddle
and the little puddles.

The room was full of puddles. Some big, some small, but all larger than the size of a child's plastic chair. They had been irregularly spaced in such a way that they seemed to be a jigsaw of puddles. Each puddle shone a different colour, depending on the light reflected in them from the stained glass roof.

I had no idea where I was or what this place was for. How did I get here? Through a maze of doors I was not sure I wanted to negotiate again. It had been like trying to find a way out of a mirror maze.

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