What fresh hell is this?

Never have I hated an inanimate object so. That cursed floor! After only three days on that concrete slab, my feet hurt all the way to my neck. I hobble around whimpering to myself. And then I feel bad for being so pitiful. It isn't as if I have ever really suffered after all.

So I try to take my mind off it by writing 'Send Help' in the dust on all the boxes that go by. Who knows? Maybe some will come.