In the room of amazing art, the paintings started talking to me. In the room of beds, the quilts opened and welcomed me to the wild wilderness. In the room of cotton clouds, the shining sun woke up. In the room of gruesome graves, dead bodies had arose and started singing hymns. In the room of chickens, I got chicken pox. In the room of literacy, everything I spoke spoke of appeared. In the room of drawing, my dreams appeared.