You Left The Window Open

You left the window open, and everything came in through it. Yellow and orange rushed the room first, warm and unbothered, piling up like sunlight that forgot to stop. A pink gingham square slipped in through the top left, curious about the mess. Then the loose blue figure arrived last, all tangled loops and elbows, dragging a streak of red behind it like it had run the whole way. Nobody remembers closing the window after that. The room just stayed lit, a little wild, a little warm, like it had somewhere better to be than staying tidy.