It is clean smelling, like a hint of pledge. It smells like fresh laundry and clean sheets. The smell lacking real character. You notice the absence of smells really. The absence of coffee, old bread, dirty socks, Mary Jane and anger. It's colitis lavender and grey. Not a cold pane grey but a sort of soft grey you could use to glamour yourself and never appear again. Soft like for and warm enough for you to take a nap at 3pm. It sounds like laughter, footstep echoes, machinery and softer movements like dancing from the room above yours. It sounds like slow rain and fast rain, page shuffling page, softly trying to sing outloud for the first time, and, every now and again, silence.
--lonliness
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