The Puppeteer's diary ~ 17 ~
Red bricks look like bloody, I lift my head and tears of the sky are mixed with mine. I'm dragged by security guards, they think I'm crazy, but my blurred eyes notice everything necessary - bricks, lattice, barbed wire. So long ago... How many years have passed - eight? More. I'm loosing track of time. In my small world it passes by imperceptibly, the mirrors tell me nothing new. There have been no mirrors at all, and I haven't noticed my gray hair at once. The time kept going sluggishly and slowly as well. I'm in the solitary cell again - but now by my own will.
