Boxed In "I'm still in here" I called. There was no reply. Slowly I turned around on the slippery floor, I knew the door wasn't far away but I couldn't even see my hand before my face. Grabbing the metal racking I felt my way along the shelf , my fingers tingling and becoming numb. My hands slid across the packets of meat, hard as rock and smooth as stone. I shivered and slowly made my way along the shelf. As the racking came to an end I stumbled, catching my foot on a box. I reached out to steady myself but I could no longer feel my fingers. The racking slipped from my fingertips, wobbling as I desperately tried to cling on. I landed with a thud on the floor, a shower of hard potato chips raining down upon me. Breathing onto my hands to get some feeling back I brushed the crystallised chips from my lap and pulled myself up. Stamping my feet and rubbing my sore, stinging ears. Blindly I reached out and felt the smooth steel of the door. Struggling with shaking hands I finally managed to release the handle, escaping into the steamy kitchen.