[There's a line to Zinc's mind, her memory. There's the woman she was before she died, someone clever and strong, an individual in the purest sense of the word. She's not ashamed of anything that woman did, even though some of it was terrible. But that woman feels like something distant and disconnected, as if preserved forever inside a glass case. There to taunt her, but not something that she can ever take up again.
And then there's what she is now. A slave to a man who doesn't love her, lonely and weak and rotting away day by day. Hungry, but unable to even act on her instincts and to eat the way she wishes. She's nothing now, something crippled and caged and unhappy.]
no subject
[There's a line to Zinc's mind, her memory. There's the woman she was before she died, someone clever and strong, an individual in the purest sense of the word. She's not ashamed of anything that woman did, even though some of it was terrible. But that woman feels like something distant and disconnected, as if preserved forever inside a glass case. There to taunt her, but not something that she can ever take up again.
And then there's what she is now. A slave to a man who doesn't love her, lonely and weak and rotting away day by day. Hungry, but unable to even act on her instincts and to eat the way she wishes. She's nothing now, something crippled and caged and unhappy.]