I live in a house. It’s the only house on the street. And there are many rooms.
The rooms are soundproof, Have no doors, But in one there is a vase.
The vase is full, All the way up to the brim. The water bows at the surface.
The water boils sometimes, When heat from the other rooms gets in. It spills over and burns the floor. When you clean it up, It’s almost gone completely. But it’s wearing away the finish.
I need to open a window. Or tear the roof off.