Room 232, Sunday Afternoon

Vi's explorations that morning had taken her past the coffee shop or maybe it had been a bakery? One of them at least, and while she didn't really have the coin to spend there (not with her income being limited to other people's carelessness with theirs) they'd also had racks of postcards, the art printed on some of them so similar to the giant painted ads that adorned the lanes that the homesickness had hit as hard and painful as a punch to her gut.

So, now she stood next to the wall nearest her bed with a handful of cards, trying to figure out the best way to arrange them. They weren't much, but at least the wall not being blank would make it feel less like a really nice cell.

[Open door, open post! Links potentially NSFW.]