Sorry, If this isn't really blog-worthy. I'm still getting used to the nooks and crannies of the site. I worked pretty hard on it.
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There is white.
And there is a man in a green shirt.
And there are two glass boxes.
And there is silence.
He sits with no movement and no noise. He is stationary in a large glass box, the surface showing four reflections, four green shirts, and four faces bent down low. On the top of the box there sits a significantly smaller glass box. The lighting casting dramatic shadows, the only dark in all the white that surrounds the man. Many times he has wondered where the light comes from. Many times he’s wondered what the light is. The blinding light that curses the eyes. There is nothing here. Nothing.
And there he sits, unmoving, unfeeling, and yet thinking. Pondering, wondering, considering…dislodging.
The boxes were safe. Maybe the outside was safe too? Thinking does nothing in nowhere. It muddles up the mind. No, there was nothing to fear in the box.
The green shirt ruffled as he made his first move. A very heavy tilt of the head, the weight of nothing. The more he thought the more the concerns oozed in through the top of his skull. Almost as if it was feeding through the smaller box above. It had never occurred to the man to ask the simple questions bleeding in the his brain. He looked up to the walls and the white. Whywasthatlightsobright? How did he get here? What if the box isn’t safe? W h a t i f t h e b o x w a s n ’ t s a f e ?
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| Attachment | Size |
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| the b.o.x.doc | 11.49 KB |
