Short Story: The Mechanical Path

When I close my eyes, I see it. The green painted against the moss landscape. But behind the scene, there is the bright white screen, stealing bits here and there of my perfect moment. The escape so real yet created.

I open my eyes to find still to be tied to the cold steel chair. The TV flashes in front of me, bombarding an endless stream of dramas. My ears are bleeding from the noise I cannot shut out. The words have turned into mush without meaning, but it is the electric hum that I cannot...