We don’t have a door, there’s just a gap, very narrow and
quite deep. In fact it’s so tight that it presses against your chest as you
squeeze yourself through. Some kind people have scrawled amusing felt-tip
graffiti in it at eye level over the years. Getting to the loo, getting a cup
of tea, bringing furniture and equipment in, anything like that becomes a bit
of a mission, and you put it off for as long as possible. A few weeks ago an
intern got dumped by his boyfriend and lodged himself in there, in floods of
tears, knocking his head back and forth on the walls, effectively, and quite
theatrically locking us all in for hours.
..........................................................................................................
This text was written for Pyramid Schemes, a project by Lawrence Lek and The White Review, for which contributors were asked to design a space in 100 words.
