Monday, May 7, 2018

Dream Theater: The White House

I was living in an all-white house. Not just the walls and ceiling and floors, but all the furniture, too, and everything in it. 

It was all so new and spotless. I was almost afraid of it. What if I dirtied it somehow or put a mark on something? What would I do then? How would I ever keep it up?

Surely there were housekeepers, I thought, who knew how to take care of things like this. Professionals that specialized in this sort of thing. I'd have to find them, somehow, and make friends with them, and have them over on a regular basis.

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