One day, a curtain was shut with an unattended fold on the right corner. It left a small aperture where the sun light started to crawl in. Happy as little children found a broken door to the old house on the hill, ray after ray sneaked in to discover the mysterious place in exhilaration. They crammed the room and warmed it up. The walls had forgotten how glittering they could get reflecting the sunbeam. So did they forget the benign touch of the outside brilliance.
This alcove of muggy air trembled in such joy it shook down the other curtains too. The more sunlight it got exposed to, the more heated the air grew, to the point that it turned into plasma swirling tenderly in iridescent flows. The passionate substance overflew through the windows, spreading affection to other boxes. The whole system’s moonlight-silver radiance ebbed to give space for the fresh gilded sparkles.
The goblin tried to hang the curtains back on, but I decided to keep it that way. I thought it would be a good idea to let the colors explode. Once.