She sat nervously in the waiting room, waiting for the nurse to come out and call her name. She’d never been to therapy before. An unfortunate MRI incident had brought her here. She’d never really felt claustrophobic before, but after the MRI, she felt an intense desire to escape. First she had to escape the machine that felt like a coffin. Then she had to escape from the building where she got lost trying to find the elevators, then from the car where the seats were too small, then she had to escape from the world where the protests and poverty and madness was too much to bear. Lastly she had to escape from her own body where the headaches would not stop.