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Description
I sit alone in my little room, staring blankly out of the glass that shields me from the outside world. A constant coolness breezes almost uncomfortably from my left, warmth blowing gentle caresses from the front, and for a moment I wonder how it would feel to leap out of the chair that bound me and into the water at my back. A ripped and crusty book hangs limp in my hands, all but forgotten in my dreaming.

“Do I have to sign this?”

The sudden voice tears me from my reverie, and when I lift my gaze and answer with a polite “yes please”, the figure standing before me almost seems annoyed that they have to take a few seconds out of their time to scribble their name on the sign-in sheet.

As I watch little birds flit across the cement ground, poking their beaks at whatever crumb strikes their fancy, I can’t help but wonder that something, somewhere, went terribly wrong. Like a lion at the zoo, hungry and alone, flanked by cement for company and the meager satisfaction that I’ll eventually get out, I sit, and I wait. Sitting there loyally, thinking contently to myself as people watch me through my pane of glass, and as I watch them back with a steady stare that I can tell makes them restless. Since when did the King have to subject to such helplessness? Always unable to do anything except sit and watch the watchers.

But the people still walk, and the clock tick-tocks, and as I pull my eyes back to the derelict paper in my hands, I can’t help thinking it’s just another day in paradise.

Description
I sit alone in my little room, staring blankly out of the glass that shields me from the outside world. A constant coolness breezes almost uncomfortably from my left, warmth blowing gentle caresses from the front, and for a moment I wonder how it would feel to leap out of the chair that bound me and into the water at my back. A ripped and crusty book hangs limp in my hands, all but forgotten in my dreaming.

“Do I have to sign this?”

The sudden voice tears me from my reverie, and when I lift my gaze and answer with a polite “yes please”, the figure standing before me almost seems annoyed that they have to take a few seconds out of their time to scribble their name on the sign-in sheet.

As I watch little birds flit across the cement ground, poking their beaks at whatever crumb strikes their fancy, I can’t help but wonder that something, somewhere, went terribly wrong. Like a lion at the zoo, hungry and alone, flanked by cement for company and the meager satisfaction that I’ll eventually get out, I sit, and I wait. Sitting there loyally, thinking contently to myself as people watch me through my pane of glass, and as I watch them back with a steady stare that I can tell makes them restless. Since when did the King have to subject to such helplessness? Always unable to do anything except sit and watch the watchers.

But the people still walk, and the clock tick-tocks, and as I pull my eyes back to the derelict paper in my hands, I can’t help thinking it’s just another day in paradise.