Once upon a time, in a land reasonably far away, a fairly long time ago – there was a place where everyone lived in boxes.
The boxes came in several sizes, from tiny things you could barely stand up in, to enormous ones in which you could take a jog if you so desired.
And the dwellers of this land were absolutely obsessed with their boxes. They decorated them, cleaned them, lived in them, compared them to other boxes. When they slept at night they dreamed of bigger boxes, and those in bigger boxes dreamed of living in even bigger boxes.
Curiously though, no one ever dreamed of living outside of a box. The boxes were so pretty, so cosy, so convenient, so obvious, that it was hard for the dwellers of these boxes to imagine going anywhere else.
Outside of this land of boxes, the sun came out everyday, there were clouds, thunderstorms, bright sunny days, mysterious starry nights; there was mystery and beauty and love.
But it didn’t matter to the box-dwellers - indeed the changing weather scared them. For what they liked best about their boxes was that they didn’t have any real weather. Nothing ever changed, nothing unpredictable happened. Oh sure there was hot air sometimes, and cold fronts rolled across the boxes every now and then, but they were controlled, managed, predictable, and therefore comforting.
It was a strange land. Undeniably beautiful, hauntingly consistent, and yet….at times…a little sad.
to be continued……..perhaps……..