I Wake Up. … (aka Mile Marker #751)

Posted: 2016-12-20 in ©ddr7hd, Bleak, Blick!, Да, я понимаю, Как дела?, я не понимаю, Polina

I wake up.

A door clangs shut.

I come too.

One voice tells me that I’m in a prison cell,

another says: welcome to hell.

Laughter and footsteps get fainter.

And I am on my own.

My eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the dim, yet harsh, light. A bare light bulb, hanging, reflecting on gray drabness.

I’m on a bed (if you can call it that). Four walls cramming in upon me. A bucket on the floor. A tray next to that.

It is what it is.

And that is that.

In pain, I slowly uncoil and get up. I stretch my back as best I can. It’s cold. I’m instantly thankful to be wearing a tracksuit top, the kind that zips up to cover one’s neck. I don’t remember putting it on but instantly I consider it my best friend.

I reach for the tray: bread and water. I smile thinly.

I try not to think about my prospects.

I lie back down on the bed. The mattress is skeletal and the base below hard. I pull up the blanket. And then I realize that, for now, I’m all alone. And I can’t hear any sound beyond my own breathing, and the thoughts in my head.

Peace, of sorts.

Imperfect peace, in an imperfect place.

For now it will suffice.

Such is life.

 

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