untitled

There is a lonely boy sitting in a balcony, he is starting into the distance with an expression of deep sadness. I want to ask what is wrong; I want to comfort him. I whisper, “are you ok?” He doesn’t hear me. I try once more, this time louder; again he ignores me. I try yelling, but no answer. I try to approach him, to touch him, and as soon as I attempt to, I find that he inside a box, a glass box. He sees me. He raises his arm, he mouths something, I can’t understand. He looks like he has given up, and slowly his arm comes down and a tear flows down his cheek.