Deep red sheets were tightly tucked. Corners covered in right triangles, folded under into a crisp, perfect pleat. An ecru blanket lay in bulk atop an old mattress, smothering the vague lump of pillows beneath. The single form atop it all was, of course, a shining sham in marigold and rust.
The dark wood and sanguine piping of an ornate headboard leaned in and down. Looming in decumbent imitation of vines, it hung heavily upon a dusty wall of lathe and plaster.
The bed awaits your weary rest.