Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24841732-20140425011715

Atrophied muscles, knotted tendons, frail bones.

I drug my decrepit body across the white floor towards the the small slot in the wall that contained my sustenance. My famished form creaked and crackled under the great stress of simply moving.  My dried, sunken eyes jumped from wall to white wall.

White. Not single shadow, not a solitary corner of darkness was to be found in room. The brightness was so overwhelmingly bright  I could not see how large my prison actually was.

How long had I been here? Weeks? Months? Years?

Hours?

I quickly consumed the gray slop, scooping it ineffectively with my thin fingers. It looked more like soggy paper mulch than food, and tasted as good. Not even the food had color or life. After I finished it, I turned to the lifeless white walls and licked to moisture from them.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Soon I returned to my usual ritual. Scouring the walls for any flaw, flailing uselessly against the barely visible door-shaped seam in the white, and then crying to myself pathetically. I learned this was pointless a long time ago. I played games with myself too. Games like Guess-what-my-name-was and I-Spy. Neither brought much joy to me.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">My imagination ran wild in the absence of sensory input. The only sounds are the ones I made screaming and the ones my broken mind conjured.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Ironically, I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a small child. Afraid of the monsters it hid. I took solace in my night light that defended me in the night from horrible creatures and ghouls.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Now the monsters have no where to hide.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Reviews, please! <ac_metadata title="&quot;White&quot; - A micropasta - Draft one"> </ac_metadata>