Caged

Caged Photo by Samantha Bucher (April 1, 2016)
“Caged,” Photo by Samantha Bucher (April 1, 2016)

1:35 p.m. The matinee has just let out. Dozens of people flood out of the dark theater, eyes blinking, trying to adjust to the sudden light. Some shuffle down the steps, others slouch down the escalators. They push through the doors and go about their lives. I try to leave, but I am captivated by the sight before me. Monstrous windows stretch across the entire length of the lobby. Black bars crisscross the glass, forming a prison of light. The size of it all makes me feel small. The afternoon light is pouring in through the windows. It’s dripping off the bars like honey. The light is so thick that it makes me feel as though I could get stuck in it, like a bug trapped in amber. It’s a cage. We are boxed in here, you and I. Heads full of fantasies, we try to focus on other’s stories instead of our own. But if we do that, we’ll end up stuck, just as we are now. We’re on one side of the wall, caught between staying in and bursting out of the door to explore what’s just around the corner. I take one step and see where it leads me.

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