So You’ve Decided to Convert Your Middle-Aged Bedroom into a Magical Forest But All You Have is Amazon and Weed
Take the edible and ask yourself which discount rug seems most like grass. Whisper the now popular refrain “touch grass.” Then make sure that it won’t feel like grass, but draw the line at watching an “unboxing” video. Select accompanying “portal” curtains, wall-size mushroom tapestries, and a comforter that looks like glistening moss under the cool blue moonlight. Change the quantity on the grass vibe rug. You will need 3. You should be ensconced. One rug cannot provide more than a sample patch. Will your feet sink into it? That’s necessary. Of course, if they sink in too far the vacuum will devour it and burn out its belt. That’s what happened when it ate a catnip mouse. Check for a depth measurement.
Will the portal look silly if the curtains’ width is too wide? Select a narrower width so as not to crumple the magical image printed on them when they are hung up. Confront a different problem. Will the curtains provide blackout calm if they only just kiss in the center? It’s possible that the forced air heat could pop them open at vulnerable moments of nudity. Decide to sacrifice the integrity of the portal image and change back to a wider width.
Assess your cart total. Save most items for later.
Become distracted by the photographic tiger wall decal. Would a tiger enter a magical forest, and if not, why not? Add to cart. You’ll have a tiger. You deserve that much.
Close the app. Take a moment to ask yourself if this transformation can save you from the shit life you built. After all, you’ll mostly be asleep in here. Odds of teleporting to a believably magic land are low. You’ll still do things like buy groceries, pay bills online, and go to work nearly everyday of your entire life. You’ll still be annoyed by traffic and by every stripe of human incompetence within your purview.
Open the app.
Rethink this whole thing and convert the plan to Granny’s gentle country cottage. You’ll need crochet everything. Is now the right time to consider a shelf? It is. You’ll require a series of porcelain dolls and those will each need a doll stand. Should their hair color be consistent? What if you select all redheads? That seems cozy. Type in “porcelain dolls with red hair.” Observe the prices and consider your investment pieces. Type “cross stitch tissue box holder.”
Close the app. Re-open.
Re-think in ocean submersion. Add watery curtains galloping with dolphins. Change to orca pattern. Consider a light projector that mimics waves. Type “ocean decal.” The shark is too aggressive. Scroll for manatee.
Shut the app. Okay, okay. Re-open. Let’s get this right.
Rethink in vintage bordello. A velvet comforter and rhinestone chandeliers. You’ll need new knobs on your accordian-style closet door, something opulent.
Stop. Buy nothing. Close the fucking app. My god.
Sarah Sorensen
Sarah Sorensen (she/her), MA, MLIS is a queer writer based in the Metro Detroit area. She has been published over 80 times in literary magazines, but her most recent work appears in Another Chicago Magazine and Garland. She’s honored to be a Best Small Fictions 2025 and runner-up in the 2025 Rock Paper Poem Poetry Contest. Sarah is currently completing her first novel, despite an array of distractions from her fiery dog daughter and unstoppable cat son. Until then, you can find her forthcoming work in The Broadkill Review and Prime Number Magazine!
