Revolution: 1-A sudden, complete or marked change in something; 2-a procedure or course, as if in a circuit, back to a starting point
Escape is such a thankful Word
I often in the Night
Consider it unto myself
No spectacle in sight
Escape -- it is the Basket
In which the Heart is caught
When down some awful Battlement
The rest of Life is dropt --
'Tis not to sight the savior --
It is to be the saved --
And that is why I lay my Head
Upon this trusty word ?
-Emily Dickinson
The last assignment had more or less gone as planned. It had been a long undercover but meticulously planned and thought out and there had been only a minor hitch, which was resolved easily and overall, it had been a success. She?d taken the assignment to get some space from Alain and their failed relationship, and to get away from herself as best she could. But not only did Cassie not feel better after the time away, she felt worse. Cassie should have felt satisfied, victorious even. But she had felt off when she got home. Restless. Like her skin was stretched too tight over bone and muscle. Sleep became a memory and her house, her home, began to feel like a prison. She felt trapped even when she went out. Everywhere she looked there were reminders of what she had lost, what she didn?t have, her failures. There?d been too much death. Too much loss of all sorts and she had no one she felt she could talk to, not anymore. So she left. Shut the house up, closed the book store. Left the barest instructions for a cleaning company to keep the house in adequate working condition. She?d taken an overnight bag with more weapons than clothing, and Lizzie. She hadn?t been able to bear leaving the border collie behind, even though it would be more inconvenient to take her. She wasn?t coming back.
Escape is such a thankful Word
I often in the Night
Consider it unto myself
No spectacle in sight
Escape -- it is the Basket
In which the Heart is caught
When down some awful Battlement
The rest of Life is dropt --
'Tis not to sight the savior --
It is to be the saved --
And that is why I lay my Head
Upon this trusty word ?
-Emily Dickinson
The last assignment had more or less gone as planned. It had been a long undercover but meticulously planned and thought out and there had been only a minor hitch, which was resolved easily and overall, it had been a success. She?d taken the assignment to get some space from Alain and their failed relationship, and to get away from herself as best she could. But not only did Cassie not feel better after the time away, she felt worse. Cassie should have felt satisfied, victorious even. But she had felt off when she got home. Restless. Like her skin was stretched too tight over bone and muscle. Sleep became a memory and her house, her home, began to feel like a prison. She felt trapped even when she went out. Everywhere she looked there were reminders of what she had lost, what she didn?t have, her failures. There?d been too much death. Too much loss of all sorts and she had no one she felt she could talk to, not anymore. So she left. Shut the house up, closed the book store. Left the barest instructions for a cleaning company to keep the house in adequate working condition. She?d taken an overnight bag with more weapons than clothing, and Lizzie. She hadn?t been able to bear leaving the border collie behind, even though it would be more inconvenient to take her. She wasn?t coming back.