Stanislaw Had A Box For Everything - Part 2

“One of the boxes is open.” The thought raced back and forth unchecked like a crazed moth across the uncluttered whiteness of Stanislaw’s middle-mind. Seconds, perhaps minutes, passed before – as the good psychiatrist had assured him it always would – the darkness of reason began to exert its calming effect on this latest mental intruder.

“Impossible,” he told himself. “The vacuum-locking system CANNOT fail.” Clutching the table, he blink-breathed to a count of thirty, then straightened up, relief exploding magically in his belly. “Unless…”

Panic-stricken now, Stanislaw pulled the table aside, fell to his knees and wrenched open the door to his Box Chamber. The bad psychiatrist had once punched him so hard in the solar plexus that he had felt like he was drowning in air. This was worse: the hands on the pressure gauge were swinging dangerously towards the vertical, the blue safety lights at the back of the Chamber were out, and there was no sign of life. He felt the hair he no longer had prickle terrified on his head, but there was nothing else for it. Stanislaw slid forward into the dark stillness.


This story, "Stanislaw Had A Box For Everything ", is based on ipad fingerpaintings by Matthew Watkins and Cédric Philippe.
Matthew Watkins:
www.watkinsmedia.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/matthew-watkins/
Cédric Philippe:
http://cedricphilippe.blogspot.com/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/41631388@N02/.