on erosion
Dear Mr. Rock and Mr. Hard Place,
This note may come to you as rather a surprise - after all, so many unfortunate souls have found themselves caught between your relentless grasp, with their arms trapped and unable to type a letter such as this. Forgive me if I startled you by writing such a letter - it seems as if my hands and mind are the only free members of my body, and now that I have announced my partial freedom, I am sure you will do all in your power to entrap the entirety of me. I am not afraid. In fact, I welcome the challenge. Trap me! Ensnare me! Do what you will! You cannot keep me here forever!
You are probably chuckling to yourselves concerning my naivete. I am sorry to announce, my dear sirs, mine will be the last laugh. Though at present I am uncomfortably situated (if you were to take a combined x-ray/MRI of my bones, you would notice that my ribs are jabbing into my heart, my lungs are bruised from trying to breathe, and my bladder is nigh upon bursting. My arms are contorted, my legs are scabbed, my face is fried - in short, I am in a miserable physical and emotional state), and although I will allow you to congratulate yourselves on that fact, this pain cannot last forever. My anguished soul and tortured frame will not be among your final tally of perished beings; my bones will not be left to rot within your rigid grasp. I will not and cannot allow it.
Time is on my side. Though it may rain cats and dogs with sleet and snow wearing away at my skin, your harsh exteriors will also undergo change. Grain by grain, your squeezing grip will weaken as weather's waters wash your bloodstained surface clean. Bit by bit, I will have room to smile, to think, to laugh. And pebble by pebble, I will wriggle my way to escape, to run away and never look back.
I'm sorry to inform you that I will be another of your unsuccessful casualties. Though years may pass by before I am able to conquer your grasp, I can be patient. Together, time and I will win. And there is nothing you can do about it.
Until then, I wait, remaining painstakingly squeezed between your sides.
Sincerely,
Jessica
This note may come to you as rather a surprise - after all, so many unfortunate souls have found themselves caught between your relentless grasp, with their arms trapped and unable to type a letter such as this. Forgive me if I startled you by writing such a letter - it seems as if my hands and mind are the only free members of my body, and now that I have announced my partial freedom, I am sure you will do all in your power to entrap the entirety of me. I am not afraid. In fact, I welcome the challenge. Trap me! Ensnare me! Do what you will! You cannot keep me here forever!
You are probably chuckling to yourselves concerning my naivete. I am sorry to announce, my dear sirs, mine will be the last laugh. Though at present I am uncomfortably situated (if you were to take a combined x-ray/MRI of my bones, you would notice that my ribs are jabbing into my heart, my lungs are bruised from trying to breathe, and my bladder is nigh upon bursting. My arms are contorted, my legs are scabbed, my face is fried - in short, I am in a miserable physical and emotional state), and although I will allow you to congratulate yourselves on that fact, this pain cannot last forever. My anguished soul and tortured frame will not be among your final tally of perished beings; my bones will not be left to rot within your rigid grasp. I will not and cannot allow it.
Time is on my side. Though it may rain cats and dogs with sleet and snow wearing away at my skin, your harsh exteriors will also undergo change. Grain by grain, your squeezing grip will weaken as weather's waters wash your bloodstained surface clean. Bit by bit, I will have room to smile, to think, to laugh. And pebble by pebble, I will wriggle my way to escape, to run away and never look back.
I'm sorry to inform you that I will be another of your unsuccessful casualties. Though years may pass by before I am able to conquer your grasp, I can be patient. Together, time and I will win. And there is nothing you can do about it.
Until then, I wait, remaining painstakingly squeezed between your sides.
Sincerely,
Jessica
I like this one. A lot! :)
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