(no subject)
My palms press against the cool glass. Standing outside the glass case, I can see you perfectly so long as our breaths do not fog the nearly invisible barrier. It looks almost as if I could just reach out and feel your warm skin under my fingertips, but I know that if I reach out to you my hand will only be stopped by your cage.
Inside this cage, I know that you will suffocate. There is a limited oxygen supply, and soon you will breathe in carbon dioxide. There is nothing I can do. The glass is unbreakable, and so it is near impossible for me to save you. All I can do is stand outside your cage. Stand outside your cage and touch the glass-feel the glass beneath my palms, knowing that your own palms are just an inch of glass away from mine.
Through the glass, I am able to see your eyes. Because the soundproof case does not allow for a single sound to be heard, it is through our eyes that we must communicate. I’m not sure what you can see in my eyes, but in yours all I can see is sadness. Are you sad because of this barrier? Because we unable to properly communicate? Is it because I am not in there with you? Or is it because the case has not yet suffocated you?
I slam my fists against the glass case, but the barrier only trembled under my fists. My attempts are futile.