The Bricks

I started building the house when I was very small. One brick each day. At first, before I had a wall done, I felt overwhelmed by life. All those sensations, they all poured in like a steady rain. Nonstop. Then, As I grew older, and the first walls were complete, I had some peace. I was sheltered from the wind, and when I finished the ceiling, the sun. I made the house bigger, I added to my now much larger house, more rooms, more bricks. And now, a fine mansion. Built by hand. Almost nothing gets in.

But I'm lonely. Cut off from the world. I can't stop this building. No more raw sensations. Everything new must seep through the cracks in the mortar. And the house is strong. One brick each day. Each brick one day.