The Box

Gasping, I shoved hard against the lid. Weak light crept inside as I stood up. Or tried to. My legs gave out half way up and I fell against the wall. I was glad I'd shoved the coffin-shaped box against the wall or I might've hurt myself.

Everything looked different now- fake. Compared to the world I was used to, it was a bitter and ugly reflection. Leaning against the wall it I forced myself to just breathe. My arms and legs, thinner than I remembered, shook as if freezing. It was cold but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that I'd spent too much time in the box. I needed food and probably water.

The apartment was bare, I remembered getting rid of everything but it was still a shock. I'd sold what I could and tossed the rest in the incinerator. It was all so unnecessary when you had the box.

All the cupboards were open and empty. Well, I could always order food from inside and have it delivered here.

I sank back down into the box, swinging the lid down, adjusted the goggles- and time began to burn.