The Cage Series -

The next feeding came at what I guessed was midday. The floor slot hissed open, and a gray brick of paste slid out. I did not reach for it. Instead, I walked to the center of the cube—I had paced it out long ago, forty-two steps from any wall—and I stood there, arms at my sides, as the slot began to close.

The ladder ended in a corridor. Gray metal walls, pipes sweating condensation, a single flickering bulb every twenty feet. It was cold. Real cold, not the manufactured temperature of the cube. I could see my breath. I could feel the ache in my knuckles. I had never been so happy to be uncomfortable. the cage series

The floor trembled.

And then I found it.

I have been out here for three days now. I have not seen another person, but I have seen birds and deer and a fox that stopped to stare at me with ancient, unconcerned eyes. I have eaten berries that made my tongue numb and drunk water from a stream that tasted like cold knives. I have slept under the stars, and for the first time in my life, I did not dream of a door. The next feeding came at what I guessed was midday

The floor cracked.

I laughed. A broken, hollow sound. “I am in a cube with no doors. I cannot even stand without touching a wall.” Instead, I walked to the center of the