Chained. He was in chains. Like a convict, like a criminal. Yet he had done nothing. He was sure of that. Why was he so sure? Why was he treated like that? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But the person who had done this to him didn’t know right from wrong. He said it was for his own good, but something that compelled him and hurt him couldn’t be for his own good, could it? Something that made his living conditions worse instead of better could not be for his own good? Something that made him suffer could not be for his own good?
No, he definitely did not want this life. He wanted to escape. A place you want to escape from shouldn’t be a good place, right?
Attached. He wanted to leave. He couldn’t.
A little girl saw him walking with her mother. She pointed at him as children often do. He looked at her. She was free. The little girl shouted something, but she was too far away for him to understand what she was saying. She and her mother came closer. The little girl wanted to touch him, but the mother wouldn’t let her. They left. He had understood what the mother had said, and that saddened him. « He may be dangerous, don’t touch him. « Him? Dangerous? She had probably said that because he was tied up. It broke her heart. He wouldn’t have hurt the little girl. He wasn’t evil, like the one who had locked him up like that.
One night he managed to escape. The bond had finally broken. It had taken him days, but he was free! Free to run away from that awful house where he had never been able to enter anyway. Free to run with all his strength, until his paws hurt him so much he had traveled so far. Free to bark at will, not to be chained to his kennel. Free!
Do you want to read something else ?
The work of art was there. Placed right in the middle of the wall. Jealously guarded. Covered with different alarm systems. When visitors came to admire it, they sometimes stayed several hours to contemplate it, to comment on it, to take pictures (without flash, so as not to damage it) or to try to draw … Lire la suite Authenticity
French version Once upon a time, there was a farmer who had fields in abundance. He kept expanding his property because the crops were always good. He had inherited the farm when his parents died, and since then the farm had flourished. He had hired more labor, bought the properties of several of his neighbors, … Lire la suite Gums
French version She looked at herself in the mirror. The slightest wrinkle always jumped out at her. She would then quickly cover it with makeup. She wasn’t old, though. And she knew it. But this world made her forget that fact. In this world, all the little flaws could be seen as the nose in … Lire la suite Outfit
French version Her passion for insects went way back. She couldn’t even remember when she first became interested in them. Was it just a moment? It was probably a set of moments that had led to her loving these little bugs, as much as they were, useful to nature as they were. She loved them … Lire la suite Insect
French version He had been going around it for so long that he had forgotten when he started doing it. It was at that point. He was spinning in a space so small that he was practically spinning around. He kept seeing the same things over and over again, but that wasn’t the saddest part … Lire la suite Joker