Smoke sputters from a couch, the armrest singed, and a single gust plumes towards the fire alarm. Knives are stuck in the walls, and someone played darts with a Van Gogh, the painting tilted and torn. Shards of glass litter the floorboards under the broken frame. Pewter goblets scatter the kitchen counter, red liquid dried on leather barstools, the aftermath of some party last night I’m sure. A party.
This is so cobalt
