Smooth

One morning she opened her eyes and life was smooth. Smooth is painted in the colors of a nursery: blush pink, baby blue and creamy white, poured in soft, milky swirls like warm milk stirred into a slow morning. It is a home for the dreams we have as children, innocent, simple, enormous, and for the way those dreams quietly stay with us long after we have grown. The swirls are swirls of time. They curl around the sculpted form the way memories curl around a life, holding the wishes we made as daughters and sons, and the ones we now whisper for our own. Nothing here is rushed, everything is soft, rounded and safe. Smooth is the place where dreams are seeded: a reminder that a whole life can be made of childhood dreams, carried gently from the first morning onward, and mended in gold whenever they crack.