How I moved into a zoo and then found myself trapped in a cage.

 In an attempt to fly out of the birdcage, I wound up digging deep into the ground and found tunnels and tunnels of escape routes. Burrows leading somewhere with whispers and echoes of light flickering around every bend. The interesting part about being underground is that we never realise the footsteps following us or the lifeforms wiggling and digging larger burrows around us. Like arteries and veins connected but not particularly we remain oblivious to everything except for the flow leading us to the beating echo of light and life.

However, there have been intrusions from the very beginning. Startling and frightening ones. Particularly frightening when you imagine being alone in the metaphoric darkness of the tunnel. As with all hauntings, this started slow and small, but enough to quantify as icky and excessive. The little scutter here, the small voyeuristic movement of the whisker. The burials of the nests of babies, roaming and multiplying as soon as there were footsteps. 

Once the cockroaches were gone, then came the lizard, a dead one at first, and then live ones. Hissing past and leaving bleeding tails to mop up every few days. This invited more extreme measures and screaming. Boiling water and external professional voodoo poisonous help. The more smoke that was pumped into the crevices, the more there were dead bodies - of babies and adults alike. Each artery blasting out the ghosts and muddy dirt.

Dead bodies invited the banshee scavengers - peeking through windows and hooting and wailing at the wanderer in the dark. Until one morning, scratching and gnawing at the sleeping heart of the wanderer. The screams were returned and the flailing was astounding. Sealing and more magic led to the possibility of present threats being taken care of. 

Finally, the metamorphic and shapeshifting mental torture began. Perhaps the worst fear of the lightless. The monkey and the dog chasing and barking through the tunnel of loneliness and feeling abandoned in this whirlwind of a zoo-cage. Larger into more direct and vocal torture.

The escape from one cage hardly ever is to the bountiful lake, it is usually to another cage, trapped all the same in the zoo of lifeforms bringing in their abandon of fear and co-existing with the zookeeper. Are you scared of these boogie feet?

The next update will hopefully follow soon. Bises!