Fact. Fiction.

ONE fact. THREE fiction.

There are exactly eleven steps leading to the front door. The door opens from the left and you have to do it very slowly or it makes a loud squeak. When you enter the room it’s like going into a maze. Furniture, piles of books and clothes racks spill out to cover every inch, allowing only the tiniest path to traverse the room. If you walk the correct path through the detritus you come to the hallway door on the other side of the room. If you go off course, you’ll crash into something. I do that now and this is what wakes her up. I hear a low moan.

THREE fact. ONE fiction.

There are exactly three steps leading to the front door. The door opens from the right and it’s stiff; you have to nudge it with your shoulder. When you enter the room it’s like going into a cave. The gap in the skylight allows only the tiniest illumination, enough to see bare contours. The wooden floors creak with each step. If you walk in a straight line you come to the hallway door on the other side of the room. If you go off course it’s easy to crash into the glass table. I do that now and this is what wakes it up. I hear a low growl.

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