The Last Link
Links in a chain. One moves to the next, each an individual with all their hopes and fears, and yet the chain is nothing unless each and every one is strong, maintained, sturdy.
I am the flaky link in this whole chain, the point at which is it most likely to break. Yet I feel I have the most pressure exerted on me, under the most strain. Perhaps not, from another angle maybe I am, in fact, the link who is exerting the pressure. I am not so sure.
Round and round and round it rolls. I see no way forward, none back, but still it rolls round and around. No end. An end, with no end.
She walks, disconsolately, in the drizzle, wondering what and where and how and who and when and why. No, not why. She knows why.
A dog charges out, it is on it’s lead, but no one is at the other end. She whips around chases, plunges her foot forward, slamming it onto the end of the lead, the last link. The dog jerks in full flight, suddenly seized by great force around the neck. An horrific, in the midst of such joy. It yelps. The chain breaks. For a moment they stare. At each other. Time stands still. Who will recover first?
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