Take the next train, for the hollow house Seilia has come to love, has been inhabited by a monster for the best part of three years. Her tears are invisible, on the outside, on the inside the fear and toil is more than the inclination to get out. Occupying her mind every morning since moving day. Her layers are thick but not strong enough to take charge in her malnourished network of support and care. It seemed enlightenment would never come. The sailing rum prevails to numb her senses for the meanwhile, there is nothing she can do but want an exit.

Now she is blue standing with a ticket to ride, her belongings serving the actions attitude. A testament to her resilience, an anecdote surveyors might assume as success of the sleaze. The sleeves of her blouse rolled in preparation, her defensive position stated more than the purpose. The service an utter disappointment as the incompetence of company and performance redacted any sense of cohesion from the situation; she cannot stop cleaning. A Red Robin startled a glass from the outside counter, majestic but flustered from the impromptu encounter. The birds tweet sweeps Seilia off her feet in a neat and plundered bundle. The humble harmony of melody, it had occurred to her too soon; her swoon quickly forgotten. A sight to behold seeing her beautiful face light up, no cover up. She’s stirring it up in order to drum in a new discovery. 

“It’s a new me!”

One thought on “Escapism

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