Lynn McClain

Containers

She keeps her emotions contained. Her rage is spoken through clenched teeth, directly into a solid, wooden box, worn smooth with use, splitting with the effort to hold it all in. If she had realized the need, she would have made it larger, but at the tender age of five she still had hope and the belief of pure goodness. Now the box zaps and sizzles every time she screams into it. Torn, ragged edges of anger arc and escape before the lid has closed.