They had lost track of days. It had been so long since their capture that some of them had given up on the idea of escaping. Being able to see outside was torture to some.
“I’m beginning to forget what the breeze felt like.”
“Try not to dwell on it. We’re still all together.”
“I’ve lost the
feeling in my peddles.”
1 comment:
Almost time to rehome them to that tall cylinder in the kitchen.
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