|
Room
There is a room he would lock her in for weeks at a time.
Like a Cyclone, unpredictable and terrifying, he blows in showering her with fists and feet, the force of his storm
throwing her up about the walls and like a raggedy doll she flies and her bones broke and her blood runs and then
he vanishes like a crazy ghost who was never there.
How does she stay trapped in this room? From the outside she can see there was never a dead bolt on the door.
She is always free to walk out into the nothing that exists outside the threshold and stretches into eternity.
Prison to nothing. Nothing.
The door to that room sits uselessly open. There is no one in the house.
Rola Cedar
Email: Rola Cedar
Return to Table of Contents
|