title. Box.

name. Tilly Webb


By Thursday it had been forty-eight hours since

I had seen anybody else. It was just me

and the groan of the pipes that grow up my walls. 

I had one too many under-the-duvet bedroom meals. 

Through the window I heard other people's lives. 

I listened to the news approximately twenty-two times

(once for every year of my life). 

When I watched a comedy my laughter sounded like tears. 

They say solitude makes you go mad after a while and actually 

I did feel too scared to step from my box to the bathroom

so I brushed my teeth with a glass of water and spat into the night. 

If that was madness it was really quite liberating.