It was comfortable

It made a Box and It sat in it.
It was comfortable—for a little bit.
But then It grew.

The Box became too small.
It was suffocating.

It cried for help. Silently.

As if afraid to be heard.

Yet still hoping. Daring.

Daring to hope.

But Something did hear It.

Something tore. It scratched.

The Box was no more.

Something and It smiled at the Not-Box.

They looked up.

They smiled some more.

But It looked back at the Not-Box.

More and more It looked.

Then the Not-Box became.

It made a Not-Box and It sat in it.

It was comfortable—for a little bit.

But then It remembered Something. It cries.