We Made a Fort in a Hopeless Place
We all did this as kids, but when did you last see regular objects and think “building materials?” For this writer, it was tonight. I started small — one man, one beanbag chair, and a dream.
This is admittedly very lame. The lamp gives it a certain classy aesthetic, but sitting on the floor behind a leather armchair and a giant purple beanbag didn’t quite get me to that vaunted realm of great forts which I was capable of constructing as a child. Thankfully, no one noticed this short-lived attempt.
This escalated quickly: two giant purple beanbags, and two whiteboards to boot. Things seemed to be looking up for ol’ Chris, before I realized that no one was paying any attention! Clearly, I needed to go bigger.
Somehow, I was able to wheel the left whiteboard all the way across the third floor without anyone seeming to notice. Although I couldn’t find any beanbags to stack on top of the whiteboards (as per my blueprints for this undertaking) I was able to make use of this nice classy armchair which — wait, what’s that? You can’t see the armchair? That’s the beauty of this fort: it is totally see-proof. One hundred percent solitude inside this baby.
Finally, I was lord of my own realm. Though other people walked through the room, they were totally unaware of my presence in my fort of solitude. I realize that no childlike fort is complete without the requisite blankets to make roofs and walls, but I sleep on a single sheet at night and therefore actually don’t have a blanket with which I could make the roof this fort so desperately needs.
However, I’m sure there are those of you out there who not only have blankets, but also have your inner child just yearning to come out and build a fort. There are dozens of us — dozens! — and we will not be suppressed. Our dominion of the library will come.