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.
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Another VisDare entry for VisDare-63. This week's word prompt was "poison".
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