Creative Nonfiction
Inpatient
Madeline Whitmore
issue two.
There are these pretty little gray birds that frolic about the bare twisting tree just outside my window. In that same tree, there is a white plastic shopping bag tangled in the branches, swaying gently. I suppose I can assume there is a breeze outside today. I miss the sky. Do you think she misses me too? She’s so big yet I can only see the tiniest portion of her from my window. Tall brick buildings block her from making eye contact with me, entrapping us both.
It is clear that several branches were brutally severed so that the innocently twisting tree doesn’t interfere with the burly walls holding in people like me. What a shame. I would give anything for one of those branches to tap on my window like the finger of a secret lover begging to meet me in the darkness.
About the Author
Madeline Whitmore is a 22 year old literature student from New Jersey. Her writing takes many forms but is often influenced by nature, dreams, and visual art. In her spare time, Madeline enjoys reading, painting, singing, and tending to her vegetable garden and many houseplants!
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