Room 504, Thursday Morning

Ino had, by now, gotten most of the mess up from her temper tantrum on Monday. Her plants had been repotted—many of them looking sad and dispirited but she knew they’d spring back despite the broken leaves and stems most of them bore—and she was attempting, now, to get all of the ceramic up.

Because bits of ceramic tended to hurt if you stepped on them. Not that she’d done that or anything. Totally not. (Shut up.)

She’d left the door open though, and had music turned on quietly enough that hopefully it wouldn’t disturb anyone. Or something.

[Door and post are very open!]