He came in quietly and kicked of his shoes. He’ll see my oak wood double bed, my computer sitting on my desk and my closet filled with jackets, games and books. But that’s only scratching the surface to my center of operations. Clean laundry and the fresh outdoors will fill his nose with a familiar scent and silence, with a faint airplane hum or the odd bird (if one of my three cats are not lurking outside) will occupy his ears. Often one of these felines will be sleeping on the messy bed, snoring just a little. My desk will have clutter around, especially around the lamp with a hanging headset dangling from the top. It will have decorations on top of a stand that holds a heavy can filled with spare change. My old, blue, comfy desk chair will be against the wall, out of the way, acting as another cat bed. If he were to look up, he’ll see the three model airplanes soaring stationary. As for my closet, up top there are two shelves filled with a lot of board games, climbing equipment, spare shoeboxes (without shoes) and dust. Below that is my bookshelf and jackets neatly(ish) hung along a metal beam. Although my room isn’t the neatest in the house, it’s where I feel most at home. Things hadn’t changed, home was still home.
I save billions yet detstroy millions, I can fly, swim and float. Ive been here a very long time and dont plan on leaving. Who or What am I?
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