The Re-education of Simon Jung

Simon looked behind him after he walked out the doors, an hour after his release papers were signed. The asylum looked cold, sterile, with large and unadorned granite walls that spared little space for windows. Up above, he was greeted by a sky of clouds. There would be no one to come pick him up. Anyone he would still know would have forgotten about him by now. No, he would be left to his own devices.

A twenty dollar bill rested alone in his wallet, an old artifact that remained from another life, its leather faded and cracked. The walk to the front gates was a long one. After twelve years being subjugated to medications and tests and exams that bordered on torture, he thought he would have made a run for freedom, but now that it had come, he was unsure of himself. He wanted to leave the asylum, yes, but had no idea where to go. For all its ills, it had been home.

On the bus that picked him up at the corner, he found an old woman who gave him change for this twenty for fare. The act of kindness was foreign to him, unexpected. He had even forgotten the idea of requiring fare, such as the life that had cocooned him for so long.

As the bus drove away, he rested his head to the cold glass of the window watching the cold granite building become smaller and smaller, not knowing where he was going, but realizing at the same time that he didn't care.