The rustling rushes drew as a breath a current of cool and warm breezes. I stood still, sinking through ground so soggy, the grass breaking away. I was up to my knees, up to my hips, up to my shoulders in pond water, the grass fast closing around my neck. Suddenly, the sound of hard shoes on cold cement. Am I dreaming? I turned, motionless, to see the sign directing me into the theater. I made my way through a narrow alley and opened the door. There, before me, a highway. I was free.
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