It all fell away then – the control, the independence . . . everything. She had known it would never be easy to find solitude . . . to find herself. Not in this city, where appearances were everything; where emptiness filled luxurious landscapes ti...
But it was fantasy, and she knew it. It was her fantasy, and the fantasy of everyone else who would look at her and at her pictures; and it would stop being real the moment the man with the camera stopped clicking.
Even in the darkness of the closed box she felt trapped inside, she could see light shining in through tiny holes on the lid. They were like the stars beckoning her towards a place where all would be simple . . . away from the shadows, away from the ...
Worry looks back, Hope looks forward, but Faith always looks up.
Some want to be owned, and some want to be saved. Only some want to exist in the glow of contentment.
