Moonlight filters into the room through the glass window
Wind escapes into the room as well through the big holes and cracks in the window
Dark room. No light except for that of the moon's.
Grey tiles. Torn curtains rustling as winds tear through them
Broken bed. Broken dressing table. Broken cupboard whose upper half isn't here in the room. A broken cabinet and the smell of rust and decay fills the room
A broken plate. Some rotten food. Some insects and worms eating their way through it while she just sits in the darkest corner of the room, where the moonlight reaches the least.
Folded legs pressed against her torso. Head dropped on her folded hands which are on her knees.
Cold floor. Cold wind. Does it unfaze her?
No.
After all.....
It's been like this for years....
Secluded palace. No maids. The place is devoid of so many things.
Dead gardens. Nobody there to tend to.
Muddy and dark roads.
The only sound is the one of her breathing, of the wind and of the dear old crickets.
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