They’re cold, grey and lifeless. I stare at them, hoping they’ll change. But they don’t.

I wish you were here.

No, I don’t. You wouldn’t like it here. I sure don’t.

There’s nothing to do here.

Nothing but stare at them. I wish I could see something there. A spark of light, a flicker of colour.

But there’s nothing.

...

I think I’ve been staring for too long. I think this, because I just saw them move. But they can’t move. They’re not living things.

Oh, no.

It happened again. I saw them move. It’s crazy, I know, or maybe it’s me that’s crazy, but I know what I saw.

Again!

How can this be happening? Have I finally gone mad? I mean, I knew it would happen, with nothing to do but stare all day.

But I didn’t think I’d been here that long. Not yet.

I want to close my eyes, because maybe if I can’t see it, it won’t be happening. But I’ve been staring for so long, it hurts even to blink.

Eyes shut and I can hear it. It must really be happening.

The walls are closing in.