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Walls and Windows (The view outside your window)
It’s not a bad life.
You’ve heard the stories of how things are out there. Children killed before they could form their first words, mothers slaughtered because they were in the way. It’s not like that in here. It’s better.
My day is just like any of yours. Get up, go to work, go home. I’m an entertainer, I put on shows twice a day. If I do well, I get a bonus, just like you. Well, almost. There is a window separating us.
…
Love? Well, it’s much less lonely with her here. We comfort each other when things get bad; isn’t that what relationships are?
We met by the providence of higher beings. It worked out for us. We were happy, as much as just two of us could be. We even had a son, though it was a bit odd with everyone watching.
But they took him away after that. I don’t want to talk about it.
…
The worst part of this isn’t being in an alien world, or being without a social life, or having your only son taken from you.
It’s the window that surrounds the exhibit, that shows us off to them.
Yeah, it’s required, nothing to see without it. But think about what I see: after I’m done, the frails trickle out, back to their lives, and others come in to replace them. We, however have nowhere to go; we can not follow.
For us, windows are nothing more than walls you can see through.
You’ve heard the stories of how things are out there. Children killed before they could form their first words, mothers slaughtered because they were in the way. It’s not like that in here. It’s better.
My day is just like any of yours. Get up, go to work, go home. I’m an entertainer, I put on shows twice a day. If I do well, I get a bonus, just like you. Well, almost. There is a window separating us.
…
Love? Well, it’s much less lonely with her here. We comfort each other when things get bad; isn’t that what relationships are?
We met by the providence of higher beings. It worked out for us. We were happy, as much as just two of us could be. We even had a son, though it was a bit odd with everyone watching.
But they took him away after that. I don’t want to talk about it.
…
The worst part of this isn’t being in an alien world, or being without a social life, or having your only son taken from you.
It’s the window that surrounds the exhibit, that shows us off to them.
Yeah, it’s required, nothing to see without it. But think about what I see: after I’m done, the frails trickle out, back to their lives, and others come in to replace them. We, however have nowhere to go; we can not follow.
For us, windows are nothing more than walls you can see through.