Caught in a sturdy cardboard box sealed with layers of duct tape; breaking through the box is achievable but you just can't seem to break free to reach for that piece of promised heaven. You can only see it, floating by again and again, from within the box through that many little peeping holes you made in an attempt to escape. You try and you try. And you try again. In vain.
Exhaustion slowly creeps up from behind like a brawny dark shadow. Every inch adds to the weight on the shoulders, every inch sucks out the little oxygen you have, like a vacuum cleaner gone wrong, contorting the magical curve of a smile, suffocting the life-giving nasal passages.
Do you stop breathing? Or do you breathe harder?
I think I'm on the brink of a vertical slope. I think I'm in for a free fall.
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