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The Simple Escape
I sit with my back to the wall. My cell is dim, but not dark. Slanting beams of light tumble through my window, interrupted by lines of shadow. I could turn the light on at any time, but what's the point? The room is no different dark than it is light. I am a prisoner to the world.
A rustle, and something slips under my door. I move over and reach for the thing. My fingers contact a papery rectangle that crinkles slightly when pressure is applied. Suddenly, there is a need for the light. I flip the switch, and squint until my eyes adjust.
I my hands is a book that I have never seen before. The cover depicts many, glorious, undescribable works of beauty, the title written in flowing swirls of script.
I open to the first page
and
just like that
I am
free.
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