weathered floorboards creak under an empty rocking chair as it sways steadily back and forth on the screened front porch. On a nearby table lies an open book its pages turning in the motionless air. I stand at my bedroom window arms folded watching a barrensky waiting so sound heaching my unhearing ears no vision before my sightless eyes but a windblown mirage.
Reason for writing:
caught up, and no way to get out
Birth sign: Not entered
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