hum. ho hum. oh. ho.

Closed shutters, broken shadows. A heat that sits upon you.

Bedclothes strewn like the plans you made.

Pick a corner. Will you fight the same whichever you choose?

In the middle of the room you choose to scan and search.

The way out is blocked.

You know that.

You know there's a way out.

Outside it's 193- and the jeep chase is underway, round and round but no laughs like playground fun.

Sand. Dust. Covers ground, reveals your tracks until the wind of mischief takes them to his memory. Alone, hidden. Can you ever catch the wind and find its secrets?

Sunlight lets in vision. Forces images upon you and with them a flurry that echoes the obscuring dust, too fickle to trust.

Back to the haven that is a prison. Safety in the number 1. But safety will come through more than just one. Although perhaps only one at a time.

These walls. Built for security. Did the makers have this in mind? Press against them and feel the cool, a break from the pressure building.

Watch. Time. Are we synchronised? Who is this "we"? Is there one?

White. Reflects. Could you be invisible?

Time to rest?