5 minute Freewrite by 
The darkness is comforting inside this mason jar, despite my urge to stretch. I had been dreaming. I was dreaming of the rhythmic sounds of the current just outside my home. But I am not home.
The past few hours flashback in my mind. The acidic smell, that grasp, the shocking brightness. And then I lost all buoyancy. All of my limbs hung heavy. My mind shutdown.
And here I am, alert. The rocking motion soothes me, until it comes to a sharp stop. The light blinds me and I want to recoil, but there is nowhere to go-- not one millimeter of space to twist or turn.
Their eyes are all upon me. I’m curious and terrified all at once. I can no longer stay conscious and welcome the familiar black essence shrouding my ability to worry. I dream again, a bad dream, and hear excited, muted voices questioning, “Where did you get it?”
“Can I have it?”
“What will you do with it when you get home?”
“We’ll have it for supper!”
I could not help but take the point of view of the poor octopus my Sicilian mother brought for Show and Tell as a schoolgirl so many decades ago. I used similar imagery to honor her struggle to free herself from a rough marriage in poem/lyrics here: https://steemit.com/poetry/@eyedreemit/the-ballad-of-ezra-dee-original-poetry-by-eyedreemit
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