No one who was taken from this box has come back. I didn’t know, or perhaps I didn’t want to know, how it was that I found myself here. It was dark, so dark that I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Periodically, a blinding light would shine from above and when it finally receded, those who were left would breathe a sigh of relief. Originally there were twenty of us. Our names didn’t really matter; just the fact that we were not alone was enough to calm most of us down. We’ve searched the walls by feeling the perimeter and have not been able to find an exit. I had felt my way to a corner, thinking that whoever or whatever has been removing the others would be less likely to find me if I was huddled away in a corner. I sat down to try and think when the bright light erupted from above again. ...
A blog about fatherhood, and fiction.