The little free person didn’t stay away long, I heard it climb back up the shelf last night just before midnight.  Shortly after, I also heard it singing something about “nothing changing its world,” and “limitless undying love,” that somehow flies around the “universe,” or something like that. Anyhow, it was actually quite a beautiful sound, compassionate and nurturing, and the melody soothed the tortured soul in the jar.

 

The person outside the jar was understandably sad and tired, but remained ever hopeful, patient and undoubtably concerned for the one in the jar.  Despite knowing the location of the shelf to be in a desolate and remote area of my studio, where no one could hear them for yards and yards, the free person spent the day fruitlessly calling and whistling for help.  It paused periodically to check on the sick soul in the jar and hummed the tune of that little healing song.

 

The mental state of our poor specimen is unclear, but I did see it eating manna, which I think is a good sign.  It also consistently lifts its tiny head toward the sounds resonating from its loving consort.  But alas, after the sun set on another wasted day, as it had done the day before, the little free person hung its head, climbed down from the shelf, and walked away without looking back.