“So many things are bigger
on the inside,” she said and
ran to open the door. “Things
will never be dull,” her grand-
father said when his eyes 
could still summon a twinkle. 

Right, both of them. Out-
side-in all around set
spinning with monsters 
from under the bed and 
the wolf with a red bonnet
on. And friends, she met
them, too, of course, with 
their pink hair and house 
pigs and all their very own
cages. She wondered if
everyone had a cage, but
only had to decorate. 
Maybe some called it home. 

Then spinning about and
around again she flew, with
a complete absence of
bedding, mind you, hoping
at once for more of the same
and a stationary room with
an address she could use for
mailing. All an illusion. A
motionless room still glides
through space around a 
flaming, gravitational well in
a tiny corner of the universe. 
So she grabbed the rail and
hoped to God a mad man 
from the sky would save her. 

(So much for not being abstract. Sometimes I just have to
be me)