What was meant to be said, the things I wanted desperately to say rattled around my head like nails in a rusty tin can. Could one succeed in transcending beyond this shell? This mortal frame that traps me so?
Two creatures, set in a tableau as one perched unsteadily on the shoulders of the other, fiddling with the latch..a click..a terrified squeak..
The flight was surreal, freedom was free...and yet, what is freedom without constraint...?
Thoughts like nails in a rusty tin can.
A train hurtling down the tracks, metal screeching, lights blaring, noise - noise from the outside. Trapped inside the train he hurls himself against the sides, again and again he crashes into the inner walls of the steel cabin. It glints back at him, a knife is drawn. The Train keeps charging, angry, oblivious, thoughts keep pounding, the knife slices, not a shudder...the silence is deafening.
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