Sheet Hut
Surrounded in cotton, the layer encapsulates me. Thinning, the air by the hard to breathe because of miniature holes that wouldn't even let a tiny ant through! Suffocating me, the air is so thin that a rapidly gasp for air from the outside. Delicately, the cotton walls are disturbed by the uttermost movement. Peering out, the sight is complexly different from it's normal form. Sending shivers, my body feels at major fault of order. Structurally, the sheet is propped up by a table with nothing to weigh it down. Smudged, the grim writing and marks of crayons set a grim scene of relaxation. Finally... I am free from the grim horrid prison.
Written in a Sheet Hut
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