A small room with a fireplace, one that doesn’t appear to ever have contained a fire. The mantle holds a mirror but it’s too high up to see a reflection of anything but the stained ceiling.

Nothing to sit on either, and the musty rug on the floor isn’t very appealing.

Come to think of it when is the last time you sat down?

Your legs are awfully tired.

More and more tired the more you think of it. It feels as if you’ve been walking for days and the socket of your left hip is extremely sore.

But even as you realize how desperately you need a rest you find that the moment you intend to bend down and take a seat on the floor your knees don’t answer.

You can’t sit. As if some power is preventing you.

You have to carry on, though it’s the last thing you want.

You’re so exhausted.

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