Reach
It’s there, staring at you, taunting you from across the room. You lie in the secure comfort of the blankets, deliberating your next move. The images flashing across the television set are not pleasing, but the means of changing them lie just out of reach. To move from this spot would inevitably destroy the level of comfort you have created. Alone in the room you lie and think over your choices, deciding that to remain still would surely lead to intense boredom; the current programme being so dull. All the while the remote sits and laughs, just out of reach.
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