Double Back

Chains To Be Lifted

Sybil's morning always began the same way. When she finally manages to roll out of her bed and onto the cold, hard, damp floor, she makes her way into the small kitchen that had been shared by multiple rats before she purchased her very own tabby cat which she foolishly named Cotton. The two of them sat quietly at the small, black, round table near the only window in the stone wall as they ate their breakfast, Sybil watched as two young men unloaded flour from the small black car into the town's only bakery. She enjoyed watching this as it never changed, the men never failed to show and the flower was always needed for the bread. After breakfast she would then proceeded to the washroom where she would stand in front of the long oval mirror that had been in the house since long before she was born, the scratches on the side reminder her of her childhood when her parents took note of her height every month. Each and every morning she starred into her big green eyes and combed her long black hair, admiring the post cards her friends had sent her by mail from their travels through out France. However on this particular morning as she ran her brush through her hair she noticed something quite bizarre, when she lifted her hair and looked at her ear, she could see a small scar just above where her earring hole was. When she looked closer she realized that it was indeed not a scratch but a symbol. As it was not hurting her she decided to let it be, perhaps it would go away.

On her way to work, she enjoyed stopping at the bookstore in the southern part of the town. Once there, she would stand in front of the giant bookshelves and admire the wonderful stories before her. She had always wanted to buy many but with her salary of £5 a day she couldn't afford a single one. She worked in the post office, organizing the many letters and telegrams that where later to be carried to their owners by the mail boys. She didn't yet detest her job, but the long hours a little pay was definitely not the way she was meant to live, she needed more. When she spoke to her coworkers about her dreams and ambitions she never knew what to say, she had none. She often thought to herself that she was losing all her time, what if she still worked here in ten years with no husband, no children. Perhaps she should have gone on that trip to France with all her friends, since they've gotten back, they've been able to get their lives together.

After a long hard day of work, all she knew was her back ached and her stomach was full of nothing but air. When she stepped onto her beat up red bike she was no longer thinking about her route as she knew her way home from work. While she peddled lazily down the cobblestone roads of Haselbech she soon found herself face down in the ditch. This is strange she thought to herself, I don't remember having ditches on the road. After brushing clean her yellow dress and checking it for tears she dragged her red bike from the mud and back atop the road she look around and was shocked. Everything was gone, she saw no cars, no buildings, no town people smiling and waving to her, all that could be seen was the large corn field and in the distance a small red barn.