Explore "The Walls" by Keith Laumer on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_Four walls do not a prison make -- unless they look out upon a world that doesn't exist anymore._
Harry Trimble looked pleased when he stepped into the apartment. The lift door had hardly clacked shut behind him on the peering commuter faces in the car before he had slipped his arm behind Flora's back, bumped his face against her cheek and chuckled, "Well, what would you say to a little surprise? Something you've waited a long time for?"