When did safety turn into suffocation?

These four walls were once my greatest comfort. I could rest here for hours and let the whole world go on without me. With such thick layers of brick between me and everyone else, surely nothing harmful could come in… or go out.

Nope. No new ideas – as disconcerting as they were exciting – could penetrate my fortress. There was no crack or crevice for the winds of change to whistle through. The air was still.

So still.

I kept myself occupied by making small improvements within my little compartment. Back and forth I went, sorting my books, rearranging the same old furniture, trying different ways of getting from one side of the room to the other.

At first, I delighted in all the things I owned. Those books looked so nice sitting there on the shelf, especially since I knew every plot twist, every concluding sentence. It was kind of reassuring to know that if I stood in one corner of the room it was precisely twelve steps to the opposite corner. No more, no less.

Despite my best efforts to keep everything under control, some things were changing. The dust was multiplying at such a rate that I could hardly breathe. I dared not even open a book, fearing the resulting dust cloud which would send me into yet another coughing fit.

I knew I would have to find a way out sometime soon. “But not today,” became my motto.

But not today…

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