Thursday - Freedom

Rappaccini's place was full of locked doors, like something out of a fairy tale. Bluebeard. No, that's off, Bluebeard was trying to keep someone out; I'm more the minotaur-in-the-labyrinth type. He'd carry this huge key ring on his belt, this old-fashioned iron thing. Rattled every time he moved. I'd keep telling him it wasn't necessary, I wasn't going anywhere. Tried to sound real rational about it.

When I was let out, there couldn't have been more than a handful of people on the street. No one gave me a second glance. I spent most of the night sitting on a park bench, watching the grass die and trying to remember how to breathe.