Her wristwatch reads 23:48, twelve minutes left until midnight. Daybreak approaches. 

The lights are on, they seem to be flickering continuously, they make no sound. 

Walls surround her, enclosing her in a neat room, there is no dust, no cracks. 

This room is seemingly perfect. 

But is it a room? Or is it a hall? Neither; it is a space. A perfectly cubic space. 

These walls are tall; very tall. They stand conjoined, motionless, and rigid. 

Do they shield her or do they trap her? Neither, they judge her. 

The space seems vast. Or is it because she is tiny? Perhaps both can be said to be true. There is one only exit in this space, the door. It is brown and has no markings or bell. There is only a handle. 

It is simply a door, a means of getting from one place to another. She stares at the door, her face revealing nothing, no hint of emotion. She is blank, very much like her surroundings. Her hands are crossed on her lap, her legs are in a perpendicular fashion, she does not fidget. This girl seems to have an immaculate posture. Ah, her back is curved slightly inwards, concaving to adjust into the chair. 

Almost immaculate posture. 

One can see her blue eyes fixed at the door, they do not waver, they do not blink. 

She is too perfect. 

Though her startlingly deep eyes are fixed upon the plain brown door there is more to this space. It is a vast space after all. Next to her lies an orange clip, it’s rather bright for a clip. She gazes at this bright clip next to her, then back to the door. A neon orange clip? Strange. To her left, there is a switchboard. The frame of this switchboard is white, the switches contained within are black. 

A standard switchboard, nothing out of the ordinary. 

Underneath the ordinary switchboard lies a singular switch. It is also white. 

She has no idea as to what it does. She does not care. 

The switch remains as it is. 

She eyes her watch, 23:54. 

Six minutes left, how long has she been here? 

The girl is seated at a corner of this cubic space, she sees everything. Apart from herself. 

On her right there is a table, it lies along the wall. Its drawers are open, there is nothing inside them. 

The top of the table has a bamboo plant. The plant is positioned at the center of the tabletop, there is nothing else aside from this plant. The table is made out of glass, it was obvious that there was nothing inside. The bamboo is a bright green, it is quite tall, very close to the girl’s height. Maybe one day it will touch the ceiling (the ceiling is very high) of this space. She does not care for the table or the clip, 

her pupils fixate on the door, it seems to fascinate her. 

Her posture remains almost perfect the entire time, her back is still arched ever so slightly. 

The girl glances at her watch, 23:58. 

Two minutes left. She cannot bear this much longer. 

The girl breaks eye contact with the door, she examines her fingers. They are slender, though rather pale. She reaches for the clip, it is one of those clips used for sealing items and foodstuff. She unlocks the clip, then locks it. Click. 

She is surprised, she can hear the clicking sound. She does this again, and then again. She likes this. Her lips form a thin smile. 

Click Click Click 

The watch reads, 23:59. 

One minute left. She puts the neon orange clip back, there is no time. 

Her hands go back to their original position, resting against her lap. Her eyes now glance momentarily at the table and switchboard, then find the door again. Her posture is perfect now, her back does not arch anymore. How strange, the space feels so small now. 

In silence she awaits midnight. 

Tick Tock Tick Tock 

Someone knocks. The watch reads 00:00, it’s midnight. Her eyes do not waver from the door but flutter ever so slightly. 

Another knock. 

Carefully, she stands up and brushes her dress though there are no creases. 

She heads towards the door, measuring each step. One cannot discern her emotions. 

Another knock. 

Someone is waiting. 

The girl sighs, then opens the door. 

A critique of “A Perfect Girl in a Cubic Space” by Syed Rayyan Ali 

The following are some of the reasons I believe my work has literary merit: 

Hook: The aim of the hook is to instantly attract the reader into the text, in this regard my hook manages to attract the reader’s attention by a description of the setting and specifying a time, this engages the reader to find out more and read on 

Structure: I have purposely chosen to use an unorthodox style of paragraph structure, choosing to alternate between longer paragraphs and miniature paragraphs not more than 3 lines. This was done so that the storyline when focusing on the minor details of the story are lumped into slightly larger paragraphs so that the more major parts of the story, the more impactful ones can be summed up into a few lines, or even a few words. An example of this is after the third paragraph when it says “She is too perfect.” This I felt gave an edge to the story and also accurately describes the mood and sets a rather foreboding tone to the story, something I was aiming for. These also served as very effective transitions when I wished to focus on something else in the plot. 

Literary Elements: Diction, personification, onomatopoeia, metaphor, italics, and spacing were used to great effect in my story to convey a sense of foreboding urgency, as if the girl is running out of time (which she is). A very good example of this is when I wrote: “But is it a room? Or is it a hall? Neither; it is a space. A perfectly cubic space.” This accurately conveyed how the unusual wording (and setting) set the tone for an eerie, surgically clean space that seems to have deep significance throughout the course of the story, also serving as a metaphor. 

Vocabulary: For this piece, I deliberately used unusual wordings and descriptions such as the neon orange clip, the judging walls, and very specific descriptions of the girl’s doing so that the reader wonders what significance they have and becomes interested in why they are included in the story, hoping for Chekhov’s gun but rather find that whilst engaged in that aspect the time has run out, or for the readers, the story has come to an inconclusive end. 

Character/Setting: The character chosen was honestly speaking chosen spontaneously and without thought, on the other hand, the setting (a space) was deliberately chosen as an attempt to signify some form of the subconscious/metaphysical coming into play in the story. 

This is why I believe my story was engaging and has literary merit.