Rooms

In room 1 i see a butterfly flitting back and forth another, a sense of failing uncertainty and wasted hope echoing through it.

In room 2 i see a butterfly playing with another, flying all over but with a noticeable distance holding them apart.

In room 3 i see a butterfly undaunted, much less possibly not bothered about, another butterfly who has been flying round and round it, trying to make it fly, trying to pull it up to the clouds, trying to be with it in the air.

And i see myself completing my book before 17.