(This is a weird one. You may not understand.)
I walk down this familiar hall, the perfect path. Turning, the door to an office sits open, stopping itself against the weight of magazines.
Peeking from behind the door is a stand, a toy stand, many types of toys clipped to the bars. Only a small amount of force and it would topple.
A small green toy lays on the floor. Ugly yet beautiful like the world.
I stare for a moment, unsure of what to think of this particular toy. What am I to think of a toy dirty and imperfect.
However, as I reach for it, it falls through the crack on the floor. Its out of reach.
Like a turtle, it crawled from my grasp. Laughter echoed from the turtle doll. It mocks me. It laughs at the pitiful image of my arm swinging, fingers outstretched for only a moment remained until a nail runs down my arm.
Blood runs from the wound. Thick black liquid drips onto the turtle doll, burning it.
I am a tainted being. Living on thoughts of boundaries.
