Dead weight

Woke to find a canon ball in my stomach. Is this the result of eating? Or does that thing get out of the coffin at night and sit on me, like in Fuselli’s nightmare painting? I don’t have the energy to carry this weight around.

I’m going to complain to the management (again) – they really should be more careful. If I must have this coffin in the room, the nails should be good enough to keep the damn thing in and not let it roam around all night and jump me.

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2 Responses to “Dead weight”

  1. I’ve been wondering something about this place you’re in: are there any roads to the outside? I’ve looked around as much as I can (though it’s a scary place) but I don’t see any signs and I am not sure whether you’ve looked. I strongly suspect, from my experience of other places, that there are indeed pathways out, but perhaps you need to look around and explore some more before you start looking for them?

  2. Well, I could climb up the cliffs of self-harm and suicide, but there’s a big risk of slipping back down. Or wait to be airlifted. But I don’t see any other ways out. It’s a bit grim if I have to spend loads more time here before I can even look for the ways out. But I think you’re right. I’m currently too shaky to walk far, even.

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