ONE It's a white room, I think it's white, and I think that either all the edges are perfectly squared off or maybe they're all slightly rounded since the devil hides in corners. There is nothing in the room but a bed, and the bed is very comfortable and the sheets are cool and crisp at first and then soft around your body. The pillow is perfect. The room is room temperature. There are no pictures, no furniture besides the bed. There is a window in the ceiling so you can see the sky and get natural light if you want, and there are perfect shutters if you decide you don't want natural light. There are no windows in the walls so there is nothing to see when you look straight ahead but the walls that are perfectly square or maybe rounded. There's a door with a slot and through that door come three bland but nutritious meals a day, and they come and you eat them or don't sometime before the next meal comes. I haven't worked out the bathroom yet because this is imaginary but on the fly I'm going to say there's a small room off to the side and there is a shower that runs hot water as long as you want, but no bath because baths are ultimately unsatisfying. There is soap that doesn't smell like anything really. There is absolutely nothing to do but sleep, shower, and eat. The most important part of this room is that outside the room, time has come to a perfect standstill; you are missing absolutely nothing. You can stay in the room as long as you want. Sometimes it is all I can think about.
TWO Sometimes I think any story I tell is basically like this video, which is amazing and disturbing. The story starts off all "here's this thing" and then about three minutes in I am so moved by my own emotion that I start crying.
THREE Weeping through the story that I told only because I thought there was nobody listening is another thing I have in common with Prufrock. That and the growing old. Eliot was only 27 when he wrote Prufrock; if he'd stayed in America he would have had to kill himself like a proper rock star. I had a baby which is how I got out of choking on my own vomit or a shotgun muzzle or whatever else does you in at 27. I think my masterwork is pretty awesome.