dear [null],

i hope you’re still there. i know things are moving faster for you. you’re further ahead. around some corner i can’t see, tangled in the middle of the web.

sometimes i catch a glimpse of where you must be by now. a step from the deep end. where i must be headed. i keep having this dream. i’m inside a house, trying to get out. i keep calling for someone, but i can’t speak. i find an exit, but right when i think i’m crossing a barrier, i’m pulled back to the start. i try all over again. no matter what i do, something won’t let me move forward.

every night the house looks a little different. i didn’t notice it at first, but it changes. rooms are rearranged. staircases lead nowhere. i can see through the walls. tiles have a different pattern; symbols alternate. i think it’s trying to tell me something. a message without language. a spiral. a line. a slash.

i keep track of the symbols, but the second i look away, i’m back in the dark. i try to hold on to their shapes in my head. maybe i’m better off the less i know. last night i saw someone walking the halls, wearing a mask. he seemed as lost as i was. but familiar, as if our paths had crossed outside of this place. i opened my mouth, but i couldn’t say a word.

have you been inside this house? do you know the way out? i’m starting to think that i’ve used my luck up. that there is no exit. all i can do is enter.

yours,
[null]

[this message has been intercepted by an unknown source]