The escape

My life is a square. Well maybe a lopsided rectangle, but square sounds better. It is eleven paces long and ten and a half wide. I look up the wall and wonder what it would be like to walk on the wall how many paces would it be. Not more than ten I reckon. Oh to walk on a different surface. It would be a joy to feel the rough stone of the walls under my feet. I laugh a bit at this thought and a bit of drool slips into my dirty beard. Oh well it is not like I am going to have company any time soon. At this thought I hear laughter cackle through my square world. Hope blossoms in my chest. I have company! My joints pop as I pull myself to my feet. My age and the cold are not my friends anymore.
“Who's there?” I call into dim world around me. In return I am greeted by my own echo. My shoulders slump. Sanity returned stealing my hope and comfort. I am alone again. Deflated I slowly sink back to the floor and wait. Waiting has become my main occupation. I must say I am very good at it. How long have I been at it now? I mutter to myself as I stab the air counting tiny hash mark I made on the wall using a piece of mortar from the floor. 16... 17... 18..19..20. 20! Wait! Is that days or years. My body tells me it has been a long time. Wetness appears on my cheeks. What is that? Oh I am crying again.
The sky outside my lone window lightens signifying the start of another day. I pull my on an only tool from it's hiding place behind my back. With a palsied hand I make another desperate mark on the wall. 21! This means I can eat. I pull back the sheet on my broken bed and push my hand underneath. My fingers close on the moldy bread that I squirreled away in the dim early days. Those days seem so far away. As I chew the bread crumbles fall into my beard. A snack for later perhaps. At this thought my face fractures into a broken smile.
I first met my current prison what seemed ages ago. It was a very different day. There had definitely been more food for one as the mess of wrappers in corner attested to. Water, Oh the water clean and clear in plastic bottles. It was very different than the meager drips I collected from the open window. At the thought my mouth started to water. It all changed when the storm came. The news stated that it was going to be the storm of the century. I nor anybody else was prepared for the truth of what was to happen. The snow came along with it's friends cold and wind. The trio ran roughshod over town and country alike. First it had been fun watching the white blanket smother the city. The days drew on and the warmth predicted by the experts never came and the snow stayed. Not that it mattered anymore as there was no more news. At times I even theorized there were no more people. I pushed that thought. Today was going to be different. Today I let a plan take root.
I shook the hair out of my eyes and I took inventory of my surroundings. There was my bed as always, my chair and the table. Yes it could work! Giggling to myself I pulled the table over to the high window. Yes! Yes! The window would be in reach if I dared. On unsteady feet I pulled my bulk onto the table and stood gingerly. The table groaned in protest and for a moment I feared that my escape would be foiled before it started. Panic welled in my chest. I had to act. My feet ached as I levered myself up into my toes and grasped the edge of the window. I was almost there! The stone provided the traction I needed and I pushed my way out the window. I was free! My body flopped into the snowbank that had grown next to my lone shack. The cold on back fought with the warmth of the sun beaming onto my skin. In the distance I could hear water dripping signifying the long promised thaw. Overhead an eagle cruised on the breeze. A new day was here the storm was over. Smiling like a loon I reached into my secret pocket cast the mortar that had been my time keeper and jailer into the snow.