breaking free part 3

The yarn ran out. That was it. My hands wanted more. I needed more. I sat there, an idle machine, like someone hit the stop button. It was quiet, dry there, and the room was bright and unusually warm, like the whole IOMMHQ slid into the desert somehow. The window sill was sunny but empty, 2:16 was gone. Everyone was gone. So quiet, there. Even the loneliness felt different. I was furniture now, discarded like a broken vending machine. They smashed my glass. Stole my candy. Ripped my guts out. And it didn’t hurt anymore. I could just sit here, for years, waiting to be rolled away. Maybe Elo would come and bring me more yarn. She won’t. I know she won’t. I’m tired now. And I daydream about 10:30 locked up in a cage, content now to be alone because freedom scares the hell out of her. She can’t love anymore. They cut her from the sky, held her down, pierced her, and gouged out her trust. Her love now comes from inside the cage, in the quiet spaces between the facade of kindness she upholds and calls her strength; to hide the hatred for her captors. I was lucky to know her. If only I could understand why she let me in at all. Why me? Sometimes I cry for her because I know she can’t. She’s broken. These dreams haunt me, making me not want to be connected to a society that locks up owls. I fear those men too.

But I need more yarn. And the sun makes me feel safe. I should get moving. I can’t sit here anymore. I think about my locked door. As quiet as this place is, he’s still out there. Or she. Or he. Or she. Waiting to pounce on me. I slide out the window. Into the warm sunny day. The gumdrop haystacks are dry. The grass is dry. The old hat factory bricks like a chalk drawing in the sun. I see Dr.V! She’s walking hurriedly outside. I don’t call to her. She’s too far away. She gets in a delivery truck and drives toward the east. “Wait!” I shout. She doesn’t hear me. I go inside the hat factory to find yarn. There’s no one at reception. There’s no one working the machines. There’s no one upstairs. Everyone is gone. There’s no yarn there. I walk outside, unsure where to go. And so I took the path to the edge of park. I sat on my favourite bench, not far from the door to Dr. B’s. I didn’t go in. I stayed outside. There were no birds nudging me. I was alone.


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reading for inspiration, writing for release

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