I had spent most of my life inside a box, not quite fully formed; little pieces of skin and bone, nails and hair, held together in a web of partially fashioned membrane. My space was dark and warm, mostly unknown, but comfortable and inviting- there was little room to move, but space enough to exist. I did much of what I wanted most days, glorious variables of nothing. I existed merely to exist, in the most comfortable way possible. Did I have a mind, I might have known that I was entirely happy, essentially limitless, essentially.
One day however my box was knocked, and what might have been my stomach informed me that my gravity was changing direction at an accelerated speed. The roof of my box became a wall and fell outwards into the dim, unfamiliar outside. There I lay still for many hours before eventually my indistinct sense of curiosity led me to emerge onto the street, the damp asphalt glimmering slightly as the rain continued to tumble from the sky. Continue reading “The Tale of the Box Creature”