Back Door

I turned the tap on and the tub began to fill with warm water. I sat naked on the toilet seat, as the bathroom filled up with steam. I went in front of the mirror, placed a finger on the misted glass, and started writing. After scribbling what I had in mind, I finished up by signing my name.

I climbed into the tub, and soaked in its warmth. And after the day's worries have been washed away, I dried myself and returned to the mirror. On the glass, were more words. Thoughts other than mine. From the heart-warming to the heart-wrenching. From the cryptic to the nonsensical.

But the mirror has been bricked up for a week now, and all I could see is the great firewall of China. A short message on a sheet, which I folded as I remembered. I cracked the window open and sent the paper airplane off. And away it flew, circling the walls, before it was lifted by the winds. 

Did it reach its destination? If someone's reading this, then I guess it has.

photo from tumblr.com