Everything is relative
A golden cage sits by a window inside a red brick house that stands alone among the trees growing in the inlet by the road. Its gilded roof shimmers in the light of a sun that peeks through a cloudy crying sky. In the cage, surrounded by bars adorned by precious stones, a lonely bird stands on an elaborate swing made out of gold. There is food everywhere and treats galore, and a tinny silver bell for her to ring if she should want more. The bird is silent...just looking through the glass of the... Sign in to see full entry.