Fortress

From the wreckage I pulled the largest bits to form a low wall around me. Their form, size, and hardness gave them function for my needs. I wasn't sure what I was keeping out, I only knew I had to keep me IN.

I was unsafe. I was leaking all over a radioactive waste that only I could contain with monotony and heavy work-type distraction. Don't think, focus. Move, drag, build.

Sleep and hunger evaded me. Only the work existed. Stack, level, seal. Don't feel.

This wall was not scary or terrible. This wall was comforting, and safe. My hands knew every piece. My fort surrounded me. Impenetrable. Inside was soft darkness.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rocked. There was no roof to my fortress. I could look up if I wanted to. There was nothing to do but wait and listen, listen and wait.

When I was ready, in the silence, I looked up. I studied the distant ceiling sky filled with something less dark than in my comfort zone. Out there was danger. Out there was hope. Out there took bravery.

In here was me.