bottles

there is a pressure upon her head everytime she drinks juice straight from the fridge. things are so surreal, clouds on bank papers and strange noises from sky animals caught in a cage. sudden spots are too hot to touch, she touches them anyway. in this flat, it is always impossible to try and go to sleep in reasonable time and space, if you can say always after three times. you can. always: every time of the three times she has slept here. other things on the bank paper are: stars and letters, numbers and different codes of words. some sort of a twist in the cloud, as well. tomorrow, she will drink coconut smoothie for danish lunch and propably feel the pressure again. tonight, she will lie and listen to all the strange and unfamiliar sounds from the streets she has only walked a small number of times, on a sofa. winter is fast asleep and from her vantage point, if she turns her head slightly, there is a building with only two shining windows.