My house sits atop of a mountain in the middle of the sea. It is a box made of transparent glass. It sparkles in the sun and in the moonlight brightly enough for the ocean creatures below to see. My house is big, much too big for only one person. Yet, here I am alone in it.
I’ve lived here almost all my life, ever since the ruler grew tired of me following his steps. He made the house, tucked me into it, set the roof in its place over me, and left. I never had a choice, so I’ve never been very sad about not being able to leave.
I live comfortably here. The ruler was tired of me, but he did not wish to kill or harm me, so he filled the house with everything I could need. I won’t go hungry. If I’m sick, I have plenty with which to care for myself. The house is full of books, art, movies, music, and if I were to get tired of these, there is always the immense sky and ocean to look out on through the transparent walls. Sometimes I see sharks and whales and fish whose names I do not know below the clear water. They used to scare me, especially when I would see their eyes shining up at me at night. But now I pay them no attention and instead look at the stars. No creature from the sea or from the sky could break through this box.