Soft Walls

14 Oct

All the rules change at night. I can put my hand followed by my arm and then my whole body through walls, as if they are sand or jelly. Inside the walls there are small, sparsely furnished apartments. I go inside and hang out alone, because no one else around me is able to do this. Everyone is impressed with my ability. I am impressed too. I tell myself again and again that I just have to believe that I can move through a wall, and then I’m able to do it. It feels like ecstasy, like a hot shower at home after a week of backpacking. Every time I do it, I can’t believe it. And I wonder why I’m the only one whose body pressure can make walls so soft that they open and move.

I suppose it’s because they are my walls, and I decide what they’re made of.


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