I find on the computer a recipe for creating a life extending drink. It is simple to follow. I believe that I can do it with the few ingredients I have at my disposal.
I set about my task and I am happy that after only a small number of tried I have created what I believe to be the right blend.
One drink of this and I will have the time to finish my quest. I am growing old and the extra days this will give me will be enough.
But as I lift the glass to my lips, the walls leaning in to watch the results, I find that I am doubtful. I look around at my four walls. Choosing to remain in this prison longer than required, have I truly gone mad? But to fail to complete my task is an admission that I have wasted my life on a venture that was pointless.
Others have attempted this challenge and they have not resorted to extensions. They have succeeded and failed through their own merits. No other. I should do the same.
I lay the drink aside. But yet, I cannot bring myself to throw it away completely. It remains motionless on the counter as I continue my daily life.
But it's noiseless questioning is deafening in the silence of my room.
But no, I have chosen to do this the right way.
The real way.
I am ready for this.
Although, now that the time approaches I find myself wishing for these four walls for just a little longer. What is here is familiar and warm. The place I see now is dark and unknown.
Perhaps it will be glorious.
Perhaps I have made a mistake.