Petals. Marti Eicholz

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      Introduction

      The stroke of a pen annihilated all hopes and dreams.

      Mary entered the prison system with a plethora of physical and emotional obstacles. The reality of being in prison was devastating. Her cell was barely six feet by four with a creaky bed, a springy mattress and only one thin blanket. Surrounded by four thick grey stone walls, no wide window with a flower box only a mean barred opening with metal bars, the isolation was total.

      With zero stimulation, there was nothing to do but stare at the chipped paint from time passing, or gouged by other prisoners, anything to pass the time. Slowly she was going mad as she theorized absurd meanings from the wall’s blank stare. It was dark. It was unforgiving. It was lonely. Desolation was all-consuming. Feeling disoriented, Mary thought given enough time she could forget her name.

      In the past when anxiety and fear grabbed her by the tongue and dried her mouth, she would remind herself I am a good person. I do good things. Everything will be all right. Mary saw sunshine on every leaf and a sunbeam in every petal. Her fingers tingled holding a flower petal and a flush rose to her cheek. The fragrance comforted her. Not now, there were no flowers. Where was she going to soak in the calm peace of nature.

      She felt emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing to feel, nothing to say, nothing but the void that enveloped her mind in swirling blackness. Mary found as storms rose inside, the winds howled in her soul wrapping icy tentacles around her heart so tightly it almost stopped beating and the odors from rotting stems and petals suffocated. All the damage made her mind a wasteland and triggered her past. A past that promised rose buds unfurling beauty.

      Mary’s anxiety and fear also came from that place and time.