The music of everybody in the room swirled up into the cherry rafters that stretched across the ceiling and connected the marble columns on opposite walls. Below, tiny people sang about the insignificant problems in their microscopic world. They felt as though they filled the room, but there was hardly space for them to stand amidst their music and their egos that thickened the evening air. The people, too engulfed in themselves, did not notice that they were nearly suffocating. They fed on their own sense of importance and wanted to hold more, believed they deserved it. So they stretched themselves taller toward heaven and puffed their heads out until they were uncomfortably large. Their pompous heads slumped heavily to the side and forced their necks into unnatural angles. All the while, their songs became louder; the air, thicker. Soon there was too much and the room collapsed.