Take me anywhere.

We bury things so deep we no longer remember there was anything to bury. Our bodies remember. Our neurotic states remember. But we don't.

— Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

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Warum gehst du nicht einfach weg?




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Pick.
Take a pick.
Go on.
Pick.

Carefully camouflaged under a soft duvet, the kitten stepped out—of what it had been trapped in for what seemed like weeks, or maybe just long tormenting days. Curiosity did not hit the kitten yet, as it had not learnt of such trait during its state of captivity. Ignorant of the existence of danger, the kitten's steps forward began to grow more daring as it felt more of the ground. Not once did the kitten turn back, as the horrid memories of entrapment recurred far too often for comfort. It was until the kitten heard those words again.

Pick.
Take a pick.
Come on.
Pick.

More than one version of it; the kitten observed its distinctive use of words and clarity of tone as the set of words were repeated. It did not stop the kitten, nonetheless. Full of self-determination, the kitten headed forwarded towards what seemed like a paradise. It can be described as a land of fluff and joy. A strong sense of temptation overcame the kitten and it could not resist from advancing towards the perceived haven. Braver steps perpetuated as the kitten built its courage to take a leap. Not a leap as one would imagine, but it felt like a leap for the kitten. With its tiny legs and will, it took the leap, which ended up as a pounce. No amount of disappointment could replace that moment as the kitten had envisioned a mightier leap—one filled with so much hope and strength.

There.
The lady chose.
All right.
Thanks.

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Weißt du wie oft ich an dich denke?

————————

M.

Take me anywhere.

Anywhere away with you.