I entered a writing contest this evening. 100 words. the theme “found in space”

“Why isn’t the kettle boiling yet?” he thought, cold, thirsty. Walking into the next room, he saw his error; shiny fire hissed from an uncovered burner, the teapot sat, tepid, behind it. He laughed, moved the pyrex over the heat, and watched that pot until it boiled. Tea made, he ambled over to his cushion, sat down in front of candles and incense, closed his eyes. As he breathed, the walls of his cranium dissolved. The space inside his mind flowed out , and the universe poured in. In the middle of all of creation, he found himself.

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