Yellow tiles stacked like blocks of butter and a firm mattress fitted to a wooden bench were her view. She could hear voices laughing outside a barred opaque window as she watched time tick by on a small clock fixed to the wall.
A solid green door kept her safe. With eyes closed, she breathed and waited but no curtains pulled aside to allow a new act to follow. A one woman show seemed to be all that would be played each night on that odd little stage.
Nothing blocked the door that she could see. The rippled steel remained in place and she waited for someone to turn the handle on the other side inviting her to walk into what she remembered lay beyond.
Same streets. Same air but a different reality followed her. Let go it said. What once was was no more. She stopped feeling lost in a dream. Instead she was ready to spread her wings as her raven watched with a protective eye.