The Box

I finally get back to my room after a harrowing ride home from a (very) long night.

Settling onto the bed like an anvil on soggy-sand, I summon my computer to me. Tweaking a playlist like a scientist calibrating important equipment, I land on the tone I want to follow tonight.

My hands gently settle atop the keyboard, when the walls in this room hastily jump inward a few inches.

The ceiling also seems to slightly drop a bit.

It’s almost as if nothing happened, but I’m still on high-alert.

I'm sensitive about these things. It has to be on MY terms or I throw a shit storm.

I cease all production.

I stop the train.

As king to my kingdom, I see no reason for sacrifice or compromise within the confines of my own realm, so after a long pause, I give the walls permission to rush me.

The floor begins to rise as the ceiling crowds down on top of me. I push against an encroaching wall with my legs and try to hold the ceiling at bay with my hands, but it's merely for show.

I have no intentions of stopping this.

Let the room crush me to dust I say... and it does. (More or less.)

My arms snap back and my poor legs pop at the knees. The laptop folds around my face and I can hear myself laughing above the sounds of mashing and cracking. Blood splashes into my eye just as it leaves the socket. The funny part, is that I can still see for a moment or two. The last image my brain pulls inward is of my left hand, crunching and painfully-popping.

Somehow, I’m still laughing.

The box stops pulverizing me for a merciful-moment.

The laughing stops.

I can't see, but I'm not dead yet (or maybe I am). It's hard to tell if you’re still alive when your entire body has just been crushed, but there I go whining again.

Keeping my pride intact, I choose to be brave about it.

I hear a pilot flame ignite, then three more in succession.

Turns out I can still speak because I say, "Oh," just before the flames electrocute my senses with lightning jolts of pain.

I can hear my ears melting in the extreme heat. My bones feel like they’re boiling.

I don't know if it's possible...but I think I can hear myself laughing again.

Then, everything goes quiet.

Don't ask me how, but I can sense the box retreat.

Something moves in the tiny room and I’m scattered into the stale air.

The feeling is... bliss. I’ve never known such a sensation.

"Nothing compares to this," I think as the playful air effortlessly transports me around the room.

Pulled into a return grill and up through the duct, I’m suddenly spat into the living room. The pressures shift and I’m souring towards the door as it opens wide…

Shot into the world beyond, high above the trees; I traveled through the sky...

... and have been ever since.

#crushed, #incinerated, #flying, #thebox

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