My bed holds history. As a child i begged my parents to let me have it.
And now i do. Its light oak and 18th century with silken padding. ..How many have died here ?..how many have loved?Sometimes I feel the swirling ghosts and I am transported in half dream to courtesan nights and candle light and other times I feel the loneliness of a life ending .Both my brother and I were born in it .It always seemed so huge as ,giggling children, we trampolined; but I now lie in it. A single life in a double bed.