Here I am at last, at the bottom of a pit, staring up at the sky. I knew one day my dissent would catch up with me, you n only place a single word wrong to end up in here and I have placed many words in all the right spots to leave lasting damage. Or so I hope.
The sky is a torment. They let you see it so you are reminded about what you are missing, or at least that is their intention.
I see a pigeon take flight. I watch it's wings flap then cut through the air, as it wheels then soars away. I smile.
Whatever they do to me, to us, whatever they might hold in their iron grip, there will always be something free. Always something beyond their control. And that means they can never win.
Paddy Dobson
4th January 2022