Prison of Ice

It’s staring at me, tracing the contours of my back while it plans its attack. Demonic scarecrow…

Crystalline frost glistened from the neighborhood Halloween decorations as I crunched my way across the frozen grass in my front yard. A symphony of car engines and ice scrappers spiraled into the blue and gold sunrise. Surreal sounds of a late autumn morning haunt me.

Here I am, lost in this prison cell for a year with only my memories echoing like a decade to keep me company. The nail marks on the walls where I’ve struggled for freedom appear shadowed and forgotten. Cobwebs linger between the bars that I so painstakingly reached though when this all was new and I was naïve. My spirit to escape has grown cold and listless. I can’t help but wonder if the locked door I’m staring at will ever open up and welcome me.