hidden_shards tender_square i am with two other people, though i’m not sure who they are. i think one is a man and the other’s a woman. we’re cutting through someone’s house, taking it as a shortcut, going through each of the rooms to get somewhere else. the home is filled with people and they’re socializing by drinking tea and playing cards. it’s a very easy atmosphere. no one is alarmed by our intrusion or our watching. each room is decorated uniquely with antique furniture but doesn’t feel like the untouchability of a museum or entering an out-of-touch time capsule either. i look at one wall that has teal and soft pink paint and the pink strokes are like soft fronds, each stroke contains movement. there’s a painting on that wall, something abstract and soft in tones that match. in another room, all these photographs of house family members are on the walls in organized clumps and two people use large rollers on sticks to paint between the pictures in a bright lilac purple. as i watch, i think about how these pictures could never be moved as they’d reveal the tan lines of the previous wall colour. either on the same wall, or a different one, there are all these small mirrors in similar size shapes of diamonds and circles equally spaced out. we leave the rooms of people and descend into the basement. the stairs are sort of treacherous, in that we have to dodge small items on the steps as it curves, but the coloured carpet on each tread makes it soft. we enter a bedroom-sized room and it contains more furniture that hasn’t been used in the upper floors. there’s a closet with a few vintage clothing items but it’s outnumbered by empty hangers. i notice three or four pairs of a boy’s lederhosen there. there’s a small window in the room and beneath it is a wooden piece of furniture, like a desk, with a very tall ledge filled with figurines and breakables. i begin to move the items one by one to somewhere else, with the intention of using the ledge as a step to balance on while trying to escape through the window. at one point, i move a medium-sized terra cotta vessel. it’s glazed in two halves, bisected along the horizon, one part was white and one black. as i’m admiring it i drop the piece accidentally and it breaks. i take the shards and hide them somewhere. i wasn’t trying to be destructive. a woman from upstairs enters the room. immediately, she noticed that the terra cotta vase/plant holder is missing and asks where it is. i’m quietly amazed that the one piece i’ve broken is the one she’s looking for in the room full of random things. i’m unable to tell her i’ve broken it. 230321 what's it to you? who go blather from