By Sebnem Sanders

She turned her head and followed me with her dove-like gaze.  I knew there was still some light inside her. Imprisoned within her body, her soul and mental capabilities had no other outlet. She responded to sounds, sometimes to the doorbell ringing, perhaps looking forward to a new visitor.

So I played music for her, the songs she liked. She opened and closed her eyes, maybe dreaming of days when she had full control. How is it like to be handled by others, though gentle and kind? She was unable to make a sound even if we unintentionally hurt her.


7 thoughts on “Imprisoned

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    Prerttʏ sure hᥱ will hаve a very good read. Many thanks
    for sharing!


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