He kept me hidden. Nobody knew I was here, and I had no clue where “here” was. Nor how much time had passed since I woke up in this room for the first time. Months? Years? My memories were imprisoned to make any sense. I had become a part of these pale walls, the creaking wooden floor and the ceiling, held together by cobwebs in each corner. Everything but the door. His door.
My only connection to the world outside was a tiny window. The dusty glass eye I could reach only tip-toeing to peek at the well-known squares all over again. Recounting them. Hoping for a single soul to appear but there was none. Not until her.
Image courtesy of Dawn Q. Landau