LOCKED

 
She could be tired and distressed. Yes and voices tended to sound the same muffling around her head it is said that eyes tell all but hers were fallen from view. She was tied up all the time and time was outside her statutory rights. She felt it like a noisy neighbour pressing down on her exterior causing matter to withdraw beyond her concern till things grew old. She alone depended on what she was told through mostly now the voices seemed less and less to meet her she was her only friend her own worst enemy until then one day released back into the melting tirade blameless and unknown she went home unused to the space around her unused to the blinding day light the impossible slogans the faces.



* Ruth Solomon says… “I live in London. I write when and if something catches my attention and  affects the way I feel. I write as a kind of slow release filter that becomes part of how something unfolds in life and how I engage with. It is a way of holding many contradictory things without always having to make them make sense.” She blogs at www.preambleruthsolomon.blogspot.com