Night Sky

When I was younger and whenever things got bad, I used to sit by a particular window at the house to look up at the night sky because it was the only place in the house that had the clearest view. Well, not exactly, because there were window grills but it was the only place where I could at least see quite a bit out into the distance because it wasn't blocked by buildings or trees. But still it comforted me a little because as I looked up into the gray night sky, the bars in the way of my view were just a symbolic barrier that has to be there for me to overcome to be worthy of the rewards of being free and amongst infinite possibilities.

So I worked hard. And I was free. I moved out and lived in places where the sun shone brighter albeit hasher but the winds were kinder and the nights were like refreshing chill glasses of moscato after a beautiful day. Because of the distance away from the city, the night sky was brilliant and more beautiful than I ever saw in that house. The view was panoramically astonishing, stars danced brighter and the darkness promised a mystery of endless wonder. I looked up each night, as light from dead astronomical bodies travelled down millions of years after their death to this space and time where I just happen to peer up, looking for hope, meaning and peace.

But one day, I lost my mind and pretty much everything else that meant anything of value to me. Except my family. And their house. Now when I see the same window again, all I see are just bars.