It was a room without windows and doors. It was large and had four corners that I prefer calling four walls. Does that make it a room or a box? How does one enter and one leave, then? There was no entry large enough. Isn’t it then like box? But even boxes have openings and peep holes. So what does this become? I was sure it would result in some poignant or profound if I thought for a bit. But I could only think of silly things. Like an abandoned home. Like a crowded brain with no escape. Like a prison. Like a place to torture bad children. Am I just being demented now and not silly? It is possible. I just stared at this large, grey object. It seemed like an idea trapped in itself.