Sometimes when the girl sleeps at night her mind wanders the corridors of her home. It eyes the angles and the objects that engulf the house. It ponders their meaning but can find none. The mind calculates the patterns and lines that line the walls and floors, searching for an answer.
When the girl wakes up in the morning she looks around her room and sees objects without order and wishes life order upon them. Her books, papers, clothes, furniture. Meaningful mementos and leftover refuse.
Sometimes when the girl slept at night the heart would wander out to explore the world outside the girl’s warm breast. The world outside was still and solid. The alien landscape was difficult for the heart to grasp, its contours were definite and unforgiving but without response when touched or prodded.
When the girl wakes she listens but hears nothing. Her eyes scrape across the room without affect. Her fingers push the phone off the nightstand to the ground but the phone does not respond. She feels a pang of longing to see them animated.
Sometimes when the girl slept at night the heart and mind would stay within. They would converse in low harmonies the meanings of the world outside. Soon they would turn harmonies to the beauties that lie within creating choruses of profound joy to wash and cleanse.