It was a tall, thin room. There was one skinny window that stretched up to the ceiling. The walls were close - only about 4 feet apart - and they grappled up at the flourescent lights earnestly, like they were trying to get out. The carpet was that blue, confetti-patterened kind. It was stained by who knows what.

They had informed me that the door locked automatically.

As i strech across the paper,
deciding what to write...
The way I move and erase,
I feel its such a site...
Skimming back over my thoughts,
I fix and I change,
and what is my reward?
Another takes my place...
When my led goes down, I wish I could have more,
So I could stay here,
I'd keep your hand very warm!!
I'm a special tool!
I write everyday,