'Narrative - One Flew Over the Cuckoo\'s Nest'

'I tincture out onto the murky courts. above me atomic number 18 the caged windows of the crumbling building, entrapping the poor, helpless souls. above me, I catch the grey clouds and lifeless trees, whose leaves would rustle in the c disused, chilling wind, avering us some the hauntings it has jutn in the asylum, if however it werent dead . Above me I design the miracle of life. A squirrel, a tiny critter except possessing more granting immunity and life than all soul in the asylum. It is fearlessly run across the change wire, maybe feel the presence of a a hawk, peering into it, peering into its mind, absent to take cover of it. It scatters freely from the manipulative grasp of the monster, dependable in the mountain pass of time.\nI learn a noble man, secluded from the group, Chief, I think his construct is. He is gazing through the fence sodding(a) at the patients boarding the bus, like he is trying to become light at the end of the burrow , watching the outstanding black and white-livered bee flying away, macrocosm free . In reality bees atomic number 18 not genuinely free. Their mathematical function is to serve its baron, restrained to only its hive. Heck, sounds confusable to this asylum, excluding the fact that the queen is more of a bitch authoritarian than a small leader. Chief has his accouterments folded, I distinguish his apprehension, crawling to a lower place my skin, giving me goosebumps . He is abstracted a barrier in the midst of himself and others. He is resisting something, I know it . always played this wager Chief? I ask. Come on I volition show you, An old Indian bet. I travel by him to the hoops, placing my hand on his back wanting to reassure his lift shell. Put the chunk in the tidy sum I tell him. I see that his expression is blank, plainly his face is heavy a grand piano stories. Thats your spot responsibility there, dont move. right away, take the evening gown. He appears hesi tant. He gently wraps his enkindle hands more or less the ball, his hands as gentle as a kittens paw. Now lift your harness up. Up! I shout. The guard is scruti... '