There is a writer sitting on a white chair at a red desk. He is typing. There is a TV on a bracket in the corner of the room. And a plug socket high up on the wall especially. There is a bin next to the desk and the desk is shaped like an upside down U in a cubic font. Next to the desk is the door and on the door is the fire emergency information but it is mounted on the door at an angle. And the mirror in the bathroom is also mounted at an angle. At the same angle. Like you might be at sea and the pictures are moving as the room pitches and tosses. And there is a shower sunk into the bathroom so you might fall into it if you’re only half-awake. And there are single soaps. And single sachets of shower gel and shampoo. And a single towel on the single bed. And the bed is covered in a red throw and the headboard is gold which gives it an edge of glamour. But there are loose wires coming out of the headboard which might take the edge off. And there is a cubic bedside table on one side of the bed. There is a bedside lamp on the bedside table but there is no bulb. And on the other side of the bed is the window. And if you open the window you hear bells ringing and children playing and TVs blaring and traffic passing the Gare du Nord and sirens wailing and you can smell smoke but you can’t see who’s smoking. And if you take the stairs there are mops and brushes leaning against the wall as if someone, a cleaner, is taking a break, maybe smoking, but always on a different floor. And the lift is like a wardrobe on a wire.


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