Irena turned her face to the light. That cold, hard light that shifted to greet her, though not with warmth and glow. A blue light that kept her from sleeping. An antagonistic light that kept her from peace. A lying light that kept her from truth. The light she must defy to regain her freedom, her life.
“Irena?” It called morning, noon, night.
“Yes, I’m here.” Always the same reply.
“Irena!” A different voice.
“What?!” The change in routine disturbed her.
“Screentime is over. We agreed.”
Irena offered no response; lost as she was to the hardening of the light.
“Irena?” It called morning, noon, night.
“Yes, I’m here.” Always the same reply.
“Irena!” A different voice.
“What?!” The change in routine disturbed her.
“Screentime is over. We agreed.”
Irena offered no response; lost as she was to the hardening of the light.
