How long have I been here? It seems like years, but surely it can’t be more than a few hours. All I can hear is the drip-drip-dripping of the water as it plops on an unseen outer wall, and the occasional clink and rattle of a set of keys as my keeper makes his rounds around my hold. He never opens my door, and my eyes haven’t seen sunlight in nigh on a century – or has it really only been an hour?
I’ve lost all track. I lean my face against the wall, and continued listening to the rain fall.


Grasping fingers reached for the string as it was pulled out of a miniature hand. Her new pride and joy, a purple balloon, was sailing off into the wind. She watched as it flitted this way and that, dancing through the bright blue sky. It was more free now than it would have been with her, and must be happy. She had rescued it from an oily man who had a gathering of balloons on his little red cart, and now hers was free to soar through the air. She smiled, and ran ahead to catch up to her mother.


How does it feel not having me there anymore? You know I can’t help but watch you, going about your life again. It took you such a long time to manage, but I’m glad to see you’re slowly becoming more human once again. The accident took its toll on everyone, I know. I was there when you mourned, stood by my grave, nearly became the living dead from countless sleepless nights.
But I’m still here, somewhere. I live in your heart, and I watch over you. You can’t hear me say it, but I love you all more than anything.

Impressum

Texte: Lucy Anne Porter
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 03.04.2012

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