[ WP ] Describe an object within five feet of you in as much detail as possible .

Should I have hidden it? No, no one will be here for days anyway. It's safe. I'm safe. Am I safe? Should I have hidden it from myself? No, I have control, I am in control. It seems so unassuming, just a bit of dust, something you might sweep under the rug. Dust floating through the air, around me, through my lungs, swimming in my blood. 
 
 The more I push it away, the more it fights its way back. The harder, stronger, its vice-like grip seizes me. Do I really feel so in control right now? Can this really be the illusion that my mind keeps trying to convince me of? That I think it was trying to convince of... Which feeling is the lie? Why does that voice of reason suddenly seem so muted, so untrustworthy. Oh god, I know I'm already on my way back. I can feel my body turning to face the darkness, though my eyes remain locked on the horizon in front of me. My hopes lie there. My dreams. My love. The precipice lies behind me, the slow decent into primal urge has loosened my grip, begun to pry away my control. But it's just dust. Removed from the flame, and idle. I control it. How could I not? I could sweep it under the rug, or even out the door. I should treat it like the dust it is, but are we all dust? Are we all as equally unassuming? How do we stand up being held up to the flame? 
 
 I should n't be reaching for it again so soon. Did n't I feel like I was in control? The wrinkles of plastic between us, if only they were thicker. If only they stretched for miles. If only they could surround and protect my mind from that creeping infection, the virus that twists and winds its way into the deepest parts of me. The dust, still contained, still idle, yet already floating through my thoughts, leading them to the same safe place. I'm safe. It is safe there. No one will be here for days anyway.
