The room was a nightmare of overbearing good cheer. Sunshine yellow walls competed with the meadow green bedspread, curtains, and carpet. Sky blue painted furniture scattered the room: bed, nightstand, and armoire. It was a room that looked like the innocence of Little House on the Prairie had exploded all over it.
And seated in the midst of all this happy crappy was Dani’s mother, perched like an exotic bird on the edge of the bed in a fuchsia robe. She was a scream of vibrancy in pastel hell.
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