Chapter Fifteen
The perfect place turns out to be a room laid out exactly like mine. But layout is all the two rooms have in common. The furniture, including the bed, features a lot of brass and has a delicate look with swaths of sheer, gauzy fabric strung about as if a production of A Mid-Summer’s Night Dream might break out at any moment. And unlike my comparatively spare room, this one is stuffed with a collection of random artifacts. A bright pink 80s-era child’s bike with an overlong seat; several planks of wood; a surfboard; a number of colorful kites; and even a sideboard console—the kind that used to come with built-in record players.
One wall is comprised of shelves stuffed with paperbacks and hardcover books. But it seems an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves isn’t eno
