A small room behind a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

I awoke to a small square patch of sun on the west wall. Within the patch was a thin web of lines that I thought at first was a daddy long legs but turned out to be cracks on a slightly raised bubble of paint.

When was the last time this place was painted? I pressed my finger against the cracks and the bubble broke, revealing a light pink wallpaper. I picked at the paint until a pattern emerged: vertical rows of pink and blue sea horses.

Now it is time to paint again.