The room was full of rocks.

Dusty, they sat in a line side by side. Stretching out all the way around the room. In their places upon a small ledge.

The room was full of boxes of rocks wrapped in grease proof paper, old photographs and
newspaper.

The room was full of old furniture. The furniture was full of rocks. they would tumble out when you went to open the cupboard door.

The room was full of crystals, rocks and fossils. When I say full of, I mean there was a significant quantity of rocks an they where at odds with everything else.

The room was on the top floor of an old house.

The house that contained the room was covered in rocks. Flint rocks.

It had windows that you could shoot arrows out of.

Annoyingly it seems to be mainly about that house.

I will spend my time thinking about memory. I will make rocks. I will also be thinking about spaces that I would like the rocks to inhabit.