The Barn (or an ideal environment built by a tender embrace)

If the sky were inside it would be in this barn. The windows are located near the roof. The glass, the color of pollen.

Through the following measures the barn became beautiful:

My Aunt and her Lover took their sheets and soaked them in a mixture of powder made from ground up cornflowers and eighteen gallons of milk. They stirred the milk soup up by swimming around in a pot which was as large as a crater on the moon. It is well known that these ingredients are a good solution for soft skin and so they steeped in this soup until the morning. Once awake, they washed up and used the remainder of the mixture to turn the walls, their feet, their arms and hands the color of the sky on a clear morning... Sunday, when there is still a lot of time and Sunday evening is miles away and when it comes, you just sit in the barn to see the color of day again.

There is hay on the floor. There are no shelves. Hundreds of glass jars filled with salt for gargling line the walls, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. There can be several seasons at once in the Barn, as even on a warm day it can appear to be snowing inside. In truth it is not a blizzard - just salt grains and space plus the sun at different times. There is one broken board around the back of the barn, near to the ground. The door is not very tall. My name is Blue, to understand the reason why - all you have to do is stand in the middle of a medium sized creek which is shallow and open.