Mike knelt down, running his fingers along the edges. His fingers confirmed the truth.“Jenny?” Mike called, standing up. He walked up to a window,...one that wasn’t just painted on. The world outside the dollhouse was full of stars, stars that slowly moved across each other with no set direction. “Jenny, where am I?”The only door in the room opened, creaking quietly. Rolling his eyes, Mike walked through the dollhouse. It was a close replica of his home, but several of the rooms were simply. Between the sixth and seventh floor, I hear him shift behind me. He coughs softly. Not like he's trying to catch my attention, though.I think.Or is he?Suddenly, the elevator seems very small and tight.Tight. God, that word. Only thinking about it makes me feel warmer all over suddenly. It features heavily in that novel on my nightstand. Or, more accurately, in my nightstand. I don't dare to leave it lying around even thought I've been the only person in my bedroom for... uh, years. Decades.Hope. More

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