There Is A Reason

Posted: August 22, 2013 in Uncategorized

The ink pen tapped a message out on the thin, coated, wooden desk. The student twirling and spinning the instrument was himself unaware of it, but the Morse code was clear for anyone who put the time in to learn to decipher it. “Let me out. I have things to do. I am bored.” In truth, it was an accident. The idle hand wrapped around the stick, connected to the arm, tied at the shoulder of the neck supporting the head staring out the window at the birds and the green grass had no idea it was happening. It was an anomaly, a mistake, and like so many, it was never meant to be seen.


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