He once had a straight back. Tall, slim, shoulders wide. Overall superb posture. The attraction was seen less in the mirror and more in the glinting eyes of the girls in class and on campus.

The world changed him. Years gradually passed. He shut himself in more and more. He forgot the feeling of open doors. confined in a single room, then a single corner. His back curled into itself. Hunched shoulders that nearly touched each other. Bones jutted from every part of his body like pelicans clambering through bits of cloud.

His muscles tied into hard knots like tree roots made of baked clay. Sleeping felt much like lowering a contortionist into a small cardboard box. Except that might have felt comfortable.

His bones molded together. He resembled a bag of feathers.

One day, he separated. He floated away.