Bucket

Walls everywher,e on all sides of me. They are cold, made of iron as far as I can tell. I sit here looking at them for hours wondering what's on the outside. Yet something tells me that if I knew I wouldn't want to anymore. I walk around in a circle all day long, pondering the meaning of life and why these walls exist.
Where they came from and who put them there. Was it me? Did I shut myself from the world only to forget and ask why years later? For months I believe this is true. Then one day something strange happened... it began to rain and the water began to rise. All around me it got higher and higher. I continued to believe someone would rescue me from this, but as the rain became deeper I had to swim. I swam there for hours floating about the walls their slippery surface made for a great place to crawl out from. Yet all my struggles did me no good. The rains stop and the sun appears. After a long time the water slowly goes away. It was dry now and hot in here wherever here was. I continued to think of it as a prison of some kind, some new kind of cell were the inmate drove himself mad trying to figure what had happened to him while he slept and where he was. So I continued now in the heat of the sun in this prison of grey walls formless simply rising upward. Wait I thought at last as he slept. Yes I fell asleep it must all be a bad dream. I'll just pinch myself and wake up. Owwww! Well that didnt work. I was still here there wherever it was that I was at the time. So confused had I become that I hadn't noticed something was different now as I raise from my bed and look about my room. A dream, that was it a dream... a crazy dream. But nothing bad happened. Most of the time one doesn't wake up until somthing bad happens. So he moves slowly to a window. To see Giant buckets floating from the sky. They deploy tiny sand shovels who are bent on taking over the world. He turns finding himself in a mirror only to discover himself to be a sandshovel.