His home fluctuated in size at times.
Tonight it was so expansive that he'd gotten lost in it. He walked long corridors that led to empty rooms, studs and beams exposed, plaster and lath of the ceilings below requiring him to walk as a tightrope walker walks, balanced on the narrow edges of the floor joists below. He knew if he brought his weight down on the lath he would plunge through it and fall for eternity.
He picked his careful way through the windowless maze, passing through doorways that led ever deeper into this foreign house, now his prison.
Where is Lauren?
At other times, the house shrunk around him until all that remained was his kitchen and his bedroom, both rooms becoming so small that it felt like the walls were closing in, the doors and windows shrinking to a size impossible to pass through.
Both iterations held him prisoner.
Where am I?
"Nest of the Coquatrix"
Aaron D McClelland
Penticton, BC
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