As she walked, the walls around her grew narrow, the patches of moss faded, and her jar of caterpillars dimmed. The rat in her pocket squirmed in agitation. She gasped, but couldn’t get enough air. Her heart raced and she knew she would suffocate.
She ran. One hand gripped the dimming jar and the other raced along beside her touching the wall. She swerved and turned with the passage, desperate for an exit. Shadows launched themselves at her. Footfalls echoed behind her.
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