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THE




                                                    CAGED                                                                            as always. The magnificence of the building’s infrastructure never failed to astonish me.
                                                                                                                                          It was late afternoon when I headed back to the mansion. The walk took a while



                                                    BIRD                                                                           was ironic. How could such a lovely place be filled with so much gloom?
                                                                                                                                   High-marbled walls, curved window sills and a fountain gushing out of sweet water-- it






                                                                                                                                          As I stepped into the mansion, my ears nabbed an abrupt sound. It was the same
                                                                                                                                   doleful cry that I had been hearing for the past few days. Was that the sound of a bird?

                                                                                                                                   Could it be crying?



                                                                                                                                          I was drawn in, I could  not deny it.  My feet  pulled  me  across the  wooden

                                                                                                                                   floorboards of the mansion, and I kept my ears peeled. Before I realized it, the stairway
                                                                                                                                   loomed before me. I looked up at the second floor. The master had warned us about it.
                                                                                                                                   Off-limits, he said. Yet today, the door at the end of the hallway was open. A faint light
                                                                                                                                   emanated from behind the door. Nervously, I made my way upstairs. I pushed the door

                                                                                                                                   open gently.

                                                                            Written by Chloe Eu Ji Chen
                                                                                                                                          The light suddenly vanished, and what lay before my eyes was a dark, shabby

                                                                                                                                   room. The light reappeared, and I made out the silhouette of a caged bird. Oh, a little
                                                                                                                                   bird! It perched, still and solitary. Its white wings were clipped. Scars and grayish stains
                                                            The afternoon sun pounded mercilessly                                  covered them. Strings fastened its legs to the cage, restricting its movements. The little
                                                    on the earth. I soaked in sour sweat, tending                                  bird caught sight of me as soon as the door creaked. Immediately, it cried out a fearful

                                                    to Master’s garden with a pair of rusted shears                                trill, its sorrowful gaze fixing upon me.
                                                    in  hand.  Trimming  off  the  final  blades  of
                                                    grass, I tilted my head towards the sky again,
                                                    breathing in the fresh gusts of air. Rubbing                                          Whoever was it who imprisoned the bird here? What has it endured? Who robbed
                                                    my sore thumbs, I turned around to leave.                                      it of its freedom in the skies, who trapped it behind those cold, metal bars?




                                                            No, some blades had been trimmed too                                          It ought to have the freedom to soar, just like all the other birds in the skies. The
                                                    short. I eyed the area of uneven grass again,                                  cage is not, and will never, be its home.

                                                    disgruntled. My heart palpitated, not wanting
                                                    to disobey orders. I avoided Master’s gaze,                                           Under the dim light, I squinted my eyes, searching frantically for the key. My
                                                    quickly trimming the grass blades to an equal                                  limbs blurred into a cacophony of confusion, desperate for this lease of freedom, albeit

                                                    length.                                                                        for this little bird.
      Illustration by Wong Xiao Qing
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