I look around at the now risen words of my notebook. Manifested from actions and arcs into actual flesh in my face. The ghostly room is now suddenly packed, with bodies jumping up out of my book that lay on the floor. Climbing out of the mere spiraled notebook like children out of a basement except unknown. I know their sillouettes as their creator but their faces are nothing but a blur. Two teenage girls the first to come up, one with a small skirt and the other jeans a small top. Next two men follow, gripping each other’s palms and their fleshy featureless faces engaging in what could only be described as something intimate but identitiless. I stepped back a few steps, falling onto the padded wall and looking for the door. Finding it I pulled at the handle banging to be let out from this prison, but it seemed this time my words were manifesting 🍀🧿🕯 into nothing.