What Can I Say?

Jane awakens in the morning to find the world brand new. The window, a small glass portal, shows a landscape outside swimming with vibrant colors and sounds permeating the soil of the earth, giving birth to glorious new life and energy. She crouches down into her grime coated tub and looks around at the leaky walls and flickering lights that make a small part of her home. Her mind wonders at how such splendor could exist so effortlessly outside these walls that serve as her prison. Wouldn’t some of that beauty seep through the cracks and change her surroundings, remake the world she occupies as well as the world she sees outside? Would the world outside be just as beautiful when she steps out into it, or would the dank and dilapidated hell she calls home stain her perception of that world as well. Through the bars of her prison cell even a most mediocre thing seems sublime, but when that object for her admiration is within her grasp, it mysteriously becomes hard and painful to hold. The playful, kaleidoscopic rays of sunlight bending through the glass of the bathroom turn harsh and piercing to her delicate eyes, so used to the soft hues that cascade throughout her tomb. Curling up tighter, she sighed her relief, averting her eyes away from the panorama of life cruising past her window. She was safe in her cell, cocooned in her bathroom, crouched down inside the grime and filth of the bathtub. Waiting to break free, become the butterfly she dreamed to be. But for now, her empty, cold basin was enough. For now, it was all she could hope for.



This entry is inspired by this photo by Scott James Prebble.