1st there came the hopelessness that she’d e’er ‘scape this bramble pit without getting just 1 o’ those life-deathening scrapes o’ the thorn.
Then came the frustration, the bitterness, the rage…
The hopelessness became a freedom.
If they take me down, I’ll take as many o’ them down with me.
She didn’t care anymo’ that she had nothing but her bare hands & sandaled feet. She chopped down vines with her hands. She kicked them bent back in.
& before she knew it, she’d reached clear cloudy air. & ‘pon examining herself, she was surprised to see not a scratch.