Diorama

“Of course you weren’t there, but if you’d like to see what it looks like, please track down a copy of the first part of Bergman’s *Fanny and Alexander*. The little movie studio in the second half of the film is essentially the house I’m about to describe. It’s a diorama, exactly half of a house, with a glass roof. Its walls are painted with flocked wallpaper. Its floor is shaggy flocked carpeting. The flocked carpet and wallpaper are painted with flocked paint, by flocked flocked paint I mean paint that is speckled with glittering material. It’s very sparkly. There is a pulpit in the center of the flocked carpet. The pulpit is a desk with two babies demonstrated inside of it. They are sleeping. You can view the house from every angle. You can scoot under it and look up at it. You can climb a ladder and look down into it. However, you are never allowed closer than a couple of feet of the house. If you climb the ladder or crouch down on the floor, you will be asked to leave. If you are caught wandering into the flocked carpet, you will be ejected from the collection. I once saw a man ejected who was caught fucking it. <br><br>The collection is curated in a large mansion, or large house. It’s in the suburbs. There are many rooms, but only about 6 or 7 are dedicated to the diorama. Most of the collection is dolls, hundreds, thousands. Blond dolls, with blue eyes, pierced with needles and pins and pins made of gemstones. Plastic dolls, with painted on smiles. Porcelain dolls with cracked porcelain skin. Dolls that look like children. Dolls that look like animals. Dolls that do not look like anything at all. <br><br>I went to the collection once when I was a child. My mother took me there. She left me in the diorama, to go and look at some of the dolls. I was in the diorama when she was gone. When she returned, she was genuinely surprised to see me there by myself. She didn’t remember me. I was 8 when she took me here. I am 11 now. I have not seen my mother. I am here alone.<br><br>I am in the diorama right now. I am crouched on the floor. I am looking up at the pulpit. I can see the house. Its walls are painted with flocked wallpaper. I am trying to remember how flocked wallpaper comes to be. Do the speckles get glued on? Do they get sewn in? Why do they call it flocked? I can see the babies inside of the pulpit, sleeping. They look so small. I am crouched on the ground and I am right next to the floor of the house. I reach out a hand. I can touch the carpet. It is cold. It is painted. There are no flocked speckles on the carpet. I look up at the pulpit. I can see underneath it. It looks like a stage. There is a little door at the bottom of it. The door is slightly ajar. It is wide enough for me to fit through. I move towards it. It opens when I push it. I hold it open and I wriggle inside. I am inside of the house.<br><br>I am crouched inside of the pulpit. It is very strange. It is almost like a forest. The floor comes up to my waist. The ceiling comes up to my shoulders. There is sky above me. I can see light. I can see the people. They are walking. They move very slowly. I can hear them talking. It is muffled. I can hear their footsteps. I can hear the pulpit creaking. I can hear my heart beating. I can hear my breath. I can see right out of the flocked window. I can see the flocked wallpaper. I am in the house.<br><br>The babies are right in front of me. They are about a foot away. There is a little fence between us. The fence is small. It is painted. There are no flocked speckles on the fence. The babies are sleeping. I can see them breathing. I reach out a hand. I am holding the fence. I reach across the fence. I am holding the babies. Each one of my hands is holding a baby. The babies are sleeping. They are not smiling. Their eyes are closed. They look so small. I stand up. The pulpit creaks. I turn around. I push on the little door. The door creaks. It opens when I push it. I hold it open and I wriggle outside. I close the door behind me. I am in the diorama.<br><br>I am crouched on the ground. I look up at the pulpit. I can see the house. Its walls are painted with flocked wallpaper. I am holding the pulpit. The pulpit is in my arms. The babies are in my arms. I am crouched on the floor of the diorama. I am looking up at the house. I am holding the house. I am right next to the floor of the house. I stand up. I am standing. My arms are full. The pulpit is in my arms. I hold it in my arms. I turn around. I move towards the flocked door. I hold it open and I wriggle outside. I close the door behind me. I am in the flocked hallway. I am holding the pulpit. Its walls are painted with flocked wallpaper. I hold it in my arms. I turn around. I move towards the flocked door. I push on the flocked door. The door opens. I hold it open and I wriggle outside. I close the door behind me. I am in the collection. I am holding the pulpit. I am holding the babies. I am holding the house. <br><br>I am not in the collection. I do not know where I am. I hold it in my arms. I am holding the pulpit. The pulpit is in my arms. The babies are in my arms. I am holding the house. I look down at them. They are small. They are sleeping. They are not smiling. Their eyes are closed. I close my own eyes. I can feel my heart beating. I can hear it. I can hear my breath. I am holding the pulpit. I am holding the babies. I am holding the house. <br><br>I close my eyes. I am in the collection. I close my eyes. I am not in the flocked diorama. I close my eyes. I am not in the flocked hallway. I close my eyes. I am not in the flocked collection. I close my eyes. I am still holding the pulpit. The pulpit is still in my arms. The babies are still in my arms. I am still holding the house. <br><br>I close my eyes. I am not holding the flocked pulpit. I am not holding the flocked babies. I am not holding the flocked house. <br><br>I close my eyes. I am in the collection. I close my eyes. I am in the flocked hallway. I close my eyes. I am in the flocked diorama. I close my eyes. I am crouched on the ground. I am holding the flocked pulpit. I am holding the flocked babies. I am holding the house. I am holding it in my arms. I am holding it close. I am holding it tightly. I am holding it close to my heart. I am holding it. I am holding it. I am holding it. I am holding it. I am holding it. I am holding it. <br><br>I close my eyes. I am in the house. The walls are painted with flocked wallpaper. The ceiling is glass. I can see the sky. I can see light. I am standing. The pulpit is still in my arms. The babies are still in my arms. I close my eyes. I am holding the house. I am in the collection. I close my eyes. I am holding the house. I am not in the collection. I close my eyes. I am holding the house. I am in the hallway. I close my eyes. I am holding the house. I am in the forest. I close my eyes. I am holding the house. I am holding the pulpit. I am holding the babies. I am in the house. I am in the forest. <br><br>I close my eyes. I am not in the house. I am not holding the house. I am not in the collection. I am not in the hallway. I am not in the forest. I am not holding the pulpit. I am not holding the babies. I close my eyes. I am not holding anything. I close my eyes. I am not in anything. I close my eyes. I am not anything. I close my eyes. I am not. I close my eyes. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I close my eyes. I am not. I am not. I am not. I close my eyes. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. I am not. <br><br># # #