Bottling It Up
Claire is cramped and contorted upon herself in the space she is afforded by the confinement of the glass, limbs curled on one another. They tremble and ache with the lack of movement. Soon they will grow numb, before atrophy sets in. The outside world is oblivious to her plight, as intended, though not by her. She had thought to make things easier in speaking the words; instead, her discomfort is doubled – now literal and metaphorical alike; no escape from either, cocooned by bottle walls. Her wish had been simple – to bottle up her problems; stow them safely, where they couldn’t trouble anyone. She should have thought about her phrasing. Claire’s worries are indeed stored securely now; unable to bother others. She should have realised she could not separate herself from them so easily though; now she is poisoned by them forever. She shouldn’t have settled for the quick fix.