Writing guests posts on a dear friend’s blog is always a pleasure.
It has been six months since I was trapped in this desolate room. As usual, the sun rises, sunlight filters through the trees and revives the grass. Raindrops rejuvenate the soil. Birds chirp. Leaves sway and the breeze scents the earth. Flowers bloom. Dew drops establish their kingdom across grasses. Butterflies whisper from one flower to another. Sunlight sparkles, rain splatters and the moonbeam illuminates just enough. But I cannot see any of these, because my fate decreed a life in a closet for me.
At first instance, my master seemed a kind man to me. When he brought me in this house, I anticipated a royal treatment. I expected him to take me along wherever he went. I admired him and considered myself fortunate to have him as my master. Whenever he touched me, I felt over-the-top bliss. I could sense that he adored me as much as I…
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