text: Just a short little thing i was inspired to type up, NF and can apply to RF. Thanks for reading! When I was younger, I would often go into the unused room in the house. Eggshell white walls, one ceiling light, nothing else. I would turn bring a small blanket into the room, close the door and place th blanket infront of the bottom of the door, turn off the lights and stand in the middle of the room. After a few seconds I would start to lose focus on outside noises, hearing my slow breathing reverberate off the walls. My eyes would slowly and effortlessly shut out the darkness of the room and brought forth a new one; one that I possessed through my imagination. The black box I stood in would transform colors, shapes, and sizes. One second a brown bed frame with a mattress masked in white would form in the corner of the room, the next second it wold be a leather couch. Endless combinations flew in and out of this darkness. As I got older, life slowly crept up its driveway; my first and only girlfriend, my grandfather dying, graduating highschool, going off to college. The room grew a skin of dust that covered the tiled floor, the hinges of the door grew old and weary after Father Time had moved in. My girlfriend had stayed over the night when she saw the aged door, pestering me with what was behins the door I simply said "Nothing, it's empty." When I got back from work later that day, I walked up to my room for a change of clothes when I looked at the door once more and thought of the combination of colors and shapes that would come forth from the darkness. I opened the door and was welcomed by the scratchy voice of the door and the blanket of dust it handed me, the blanket I had used years before lay untouched. I inched forward into the room before reaching for the blanket, my body acted on its own accord and soon I was enveloped by the darkness. My eyes silently closed and were greeted by the darkness, the darkness was dull, almost as if it had aged alongside time. I waited, waited for the darkness to grow black and neverending, for the colors to splaah back into my mind, for the shapes and sizes to break free of ther captors and appear from the neverending shadows. The darkness stood silent, no colors nor shapes and aounds stepped forward from the darkness and i knew at that moment. I knew that I had lost it, my magic to rewrite my world. Dedicated to Kirsten.