I’ve always lived in confinement.
Mom hasn’t, though. She told me about ‘out there.’ There are no walls. Warm food, flowing water, everyone goes wherever they please. It is dangerous, but free.
Here, Mom says, there’s no danger. We’re alone except for the two-legged creatures. They never crossed the water—until yesterday. I’ve never shared space with anyone but Mom. I got scared and cried.
Mom bit the creature. That’s how she faced danger ‘out there.’
Then the one called ‘Zookeeper’ came and killed her with a loud stick.
Mom was wrong. It’s dangerous here. I want to live out there.