Though the physical distance remains the same, the arbitrary space between us is expanding like a sprouting seed pushing through the weight of the earth above – slowly, but surely noticeably. What is worrying is what would become of this ever-growing sprout – would it grow soft loving branches that would eventually pull us back together, or would it grow so tall and strong that its trunk becomes a wall between us?
In my temporary cage with bare minimum, I try to blind myself with imaginary luxury. I weaved myself a quilt of fantasies to sleep beneath, clinging on to the corners of it tightly in my sleep, for I fear that the slightest breeze would sweep my flimsy sheet of hope away. Hope, they say, sustains. I think it does, I really think so.