In The Night Factory

I go from one room to another and there is no sign of the terrors lifting. No sign that the events that have befallen me will not continue to befall me until I can find the deepest, darkest refuge in which to crawl. Even then the feeling of safety does in no way completely encase me in its charm delusion. I find the air dank also. The surfaces rough to the touch. It is at least quiet now, thank god. The screaming was sending me under. Pacing up and down the pavement outside, traversing the outside walls, trying to bore a moat around the castle with my feet. Looking up at my fortress, the drawbridge being lowered, I knock the board with my workmen's style shoes before cautiously stepping onto the bridge. It lifts again soon after I had lay my last step. I hear the laughter from across the waters and then and there I stubbornly decide to make my time in that timeless building, take them for all they were worth. Nothing was going to spoil my ideal, my quest for a better life.

As I stand and think at the threshold to my new life I look down noticing the numerous books being lowered by crane onto the ferry at the end of the now distant waters. Merrily the boat chuffs its smoke at my very calling. I wave. The villagers peered over the moat walls. Strangely they are allowing me to make my voyage unharmed this time and even my luggage seems all intact by the binoculars. I see no tears nor bent spines. Glory it will be to unpack my great discoveries. Miraculously they have already rid my investment of corrugated Amazon card wrapping. Pity that, I was so looking forward to doing it myself.