Here is a pretty girl with cotton stuffed in her ears. Her mother wants her squeaky clean inside and out, and she provides the tonics and powders and heavily foaming liquid soaps and slippery lotions to keep her that way. These weird humans. These bizarre creatures in their plush-carpeted habitats. Carpets so thick and warm you sink up to your knees, wrapped in shiny plastic fibers. You can look up as you sink into the hole you’ve created. You’ll see taupe textured walls, pretty black and white prints, a lilac Pottery Barn comforter, carefully placed table lamps to provide an attractive amber glow. A closet full of gossamer. A bathroom full of black tile and gold fixtures and passionate pink towels. There’s no need to go outside. It’s cold out there, anyway. The snow would pull you deeper than the carpet would but the snow will kill you, the carpet won’t. The stars twinkle through the big bay window but they’re pretty enough behind a frame, the pretty girl doesn’t need to see them untamed.