The room is filled with purple balloons. The scent of latex is everywhere, I think I can even feel it with my skin. I’m going to taste every second of squeezing the heel into the tight latex, dipping my fingers in shiny black gloves into those poor but so irresistibly attractive balloons. To feel the moment of turning them to shreds under my pressure. I don’t want to make all those bursts fuse into one long loud noise — I will admire every balloon in our little fatal game again and again… until all of them are gone. The Room balloon will be the only survivor.