It's 8:08 pm. I feel trapped, like there's an invisible barrier around me. It's like the world's knocking on my door, begging me to come with it and explore its four corners. But I'm padlocked inside an iron cage, with a window too high for me to look out of and a door that leads to nowhere.
There are other prisoners with me, teenagers with tired faces and bags under their eyes. I see the glint in their solemn gaze, the wanderlust trapped behind closed doors. I feel the obligation to comfort them, but I don't.
It's 8:14 pm. I want to slip out the back door and become one with the shadows and listen to the whistle of the wind and feel the cold winter air. I want to hike to the top of a mountain and sit beside a flickering campfire and roast a marshmallow and look out at the city below me.
It's 8:16.
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