Of barbed wire, retribution, and escape through a murder of crows...
I guess today is a three cup morning, seems that the coffee isn't quite clearing the fog out of my head. I suppose a fourth is in order. Ironic. Considering as the sky lightens outside my window I can see that I'm not the only one having trouble clearing things away. I see the mottled sky - light trying to break through the fog outside my window. Fog thick as the steel door to my cell. I can't help but think of the old cliche' - fog so thick you can cut it with a knife; or - thick as soup. I remember as a small child actually trying to cut thru some fog once with a butter knife... just to see, ya know! It didn't work... nor could I spoon it like soup. I still remember wondering if it would taste like my favorite - pea soup. I like days like this. Barbed wire and chain link fences not the first things I see. The fog blocking the negative reality that is mine and allowing me to think of life in the world outside. As a bonus, the murder of crows i've become famil...