IMPRISONING POWER
In Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, a prisoner in the Bastille who had lived in a cell for many years and cobbled shoes became so used to the narrow walls, the darkness, and the monotony, that when he was finally liberated, he went straight home and built, at the center of his home, a cell. On days when the skies were clear and birds were singing, the tap of the cobbler’s hammer could still be heard coming from the dim cell within. Grief has a way of imprisoning us and keeping us that way.
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