Days blend into nights, and nights blend into the winds that sweep the long green beans dangling from the branches of the trees
back and forth and back and forth.
I didn't know beans could grow like that on trees, but sometimes when it's late at night, and I plod heavily back to my dungeon cell, I close my eyes and listen to them sway. They speak to the white flowers that bloom beneath them at night. Moonroses, I like to call them.
I struggle these days. I fight, not knowing what exactly I'm fighting for or against. The bottom of the mountain looks so enticing from the top. Maybe if I let myself lean into the wind, I can fly to it. A deep plunge, away from the stifling heat and the bugs that crawl out of the walls at night. And then I can sleep.