Scared of Freedom

The biting, scared fox. He comes through a hole in a fence, a lead and collar on. He bites my sleeve, eyes pinched in desperation, shaking. I reassure him. I see other animals beyond the fence, unleashed, happy. My fox is terrified of them.

I lay on my bed in the grass, comforting the fox until he releases his grip and stops shaking. Overhead, a jump jet flys low and oddly silent. I await the sound of engines, but it never comes.

We walk through the gap in the fence. The other animals are overjoyed to see him. Unleashed and unafraid, he plays with his friends.

I turn a corner into a road uphill. Disabled people overflow from a bus stop, miserable and delayed in the drizzle of dependence on others. At the top of the hill I help an old lady with a visual impairment use speaking furniture. She explains that she could figure it out herself, if the manual wasn’t a YouTube video


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