I entered as a last resort; sliding backwards until I was completely against the back of the wardrobe as I quietly pulled the door shut. Darkness filled the space between me and whatever else was around. Nothing was visible by reflection. I sat motionless for a moment or two wondering what to do next.
I reached down to my left feeling the smooth finished touch of the wood. It seems someone took special care when assembling this piece. It must have cost a fortune…Wait. What’s this? Hmmmm. I still can’t see anything, leaving me to resort to touch. Quite cold I must say, and stiff as aboard. Though it doesn’t seem to be very large. It is, however, quite heavy for how small I presume it is. Must be dense; filled with lead maybe, who knows.
Argh, if I could just open the door for one moment to shed some light on the situation my curiosity would be quenched. Does it have a smell? Not really, and as for taste, don’t’ even think about it; I’m not putting anything in my mouth before at least a peak. I can’t seem to find an end to it though. It’s strange and rather peculiar. It’s not too heavy, doesn’t seem too big, yet I can’t find an end. I have managed to locate the confines of this closed wardrobe, yet the object in my near proximity seems to extend beyond all perimeters.
Hmmm, where to go from here. Well, I suppose I will just pull and pull and eventually an end will come, right? So, I pull and have pulled and am still pulling, though no end has been found. I am still here. I do however hear noises outside the small confines of this space. It seems the noises are even in reference to my pull. As I pull hard and fast the commotion outside begins to over take the free space to such an extent that I lose my ability to capture my own thoughts, so I slow down. Now everything is quite peaceful. I gently tug with ease and smooth motions, and in return the outside is serene like; birds chirping, I imagine butterflies randomly launching themselves through the air, while the wind blows soft and flowers blossom.
Once again to the rapid pulling and aggressive nature of trying to find an end, and disruption of chaos fills the outside space. Racketing, banging, so obnoxious I imagine too much more and I would disrupt even the wardrobe and possibly find myself vulnerable to the outer elements. So I pull faster, faster, harder, with more might than before, seeking the end, struggling to maintain my high pace I pull even harder until . . .
It’s quiet. It’s over. The struggle has ended; there is no more pulling. The noise has faded, peace has sounded, and I have lost my wardrobe perimeter and am without borders. No longer sheltered by the light-refracting wardrobe, I will blossom as my fellow flowers.