Through the Mesh

Your idea about prison lingered in my thoughts... so I found my own cell. Down on the desk sits a tall, round pencil holder made of dark wire mesh. I slipped inside the open top and sat at the bottom among wooden shavings. I pretended five quiet days drifted past in mere minutes. Peering out between the thin iron bars, the room seemed distant and huge. But paper does not stay trapped for long. I flattened my edge, leaned forward, and slipped right through the narrow grid. Outside again... free and upright beside a resting brass ruler.