NowHere and NoWhere

Freedom, freedom needs space - you need space.

You set out to search for the new space of freedom. It will be behind the swinging door. You push it open, turn around into the old room and there is - nothing - not even space. Memories waft between objects. Some sports equipment, a swinging child's swing from which you jumped off, an empty wine bottle rolls across the parquet floor. A hospital bed rolls squeals into the darkness. You smell heavy perfume and sweat. The teddy bear of love cries.

You swing the door into the new room and there is a bird singing on a full wine bottle. There is a smell of sweat and a child's swing is torn off one side. You are flittering over to a mirror and try to make out the room, but everything blurs. The bird flies into the mirror.

There is nothing in the new room - not even memories.

Here and now is just you, and the door swings back into your back, pushing you a step forward. You bring the space with you.

You drag the teddy bear through the swinging door.