Best Laid Plans

Written for the weekly theme contest on IAW. This week's theme was 'Architecture'.

The last stretch of my journey began at the carved archway. An archway that boasted of exquisite craftsmanship, of trained artists, of glistening marble, and of ornate myths I was told to believe in. It was the last opportunity for me to reconsider my decision. It was the last physical landmark that separated my imprisonment from my freedom.

I walked on the cobblestone pathway that took me through that carved archway, through elaborately designed landscapes with grassy hosts waiting at exact intervals. I walked on the muddy trail that led me through towering greenhouses flaunting exotic flora, through pre-planned forests where everything dutifully did as it was told. I walked on gravel roads that guided me as I crossed perfectly quaint bridges, as I parted chlorinated pond water so pure one could drink it. I walked slowly, but steadily towards the beautiful mansion that would soon be my new home.

The mansion itself was, perhaps, the most magnificent sight of them all. Extending beyond anything the naked eye could mark as an edge or boundary, it had forced everything around it to bow down in submission. Every stone exuded a sense of control. Every gilded window invited you to peer in, but if you were brave enough to take up the offer, it seemed as if the window itself was judging you for falling prey to its enticements. These uncountable windows served to highlight the fact that there was only one door. One door that opened into the house, and then closed with a resounding finality, thereby making you the mansion’s next adornment.

I remember the days when I took sunlight, and fresh air for granted. I remember the days when I wished I had a roof over my head, and three meals a day. I remember the day I chose to serve this Lord over the one I truly believed in. I remember the day I chose luxury over freedom- the day I succumbed to the allure of this man-made hell.