Engulfed

Home.
All is well for now.
My dad is tired but cheerful.
My mom is stronger but her memory is worse.
And the sadist was in possession of me the entire time.

I had my instructions.

The way up was for cleansing. Thoughts were to be of things other than him. Music was to be other than what he had given me. He was too smart to say I wasn't allowed to think of him, knowing that then it would be impossible to keep him out of my mind. And of course, I did think of him, but not in a focused way.

While there, I was given things to contemplate. We discussed my answers to 2 specific tasks, including issues relating to the recent catastrophe. He fed my mind with images, with scenarios, with possibilities, and gave me a crucial assignment for our meeting tomorrow.

On the way home, I was to be perfectly focused on him. I was to be working for him. I listened to a classical piece he had given me months ago, and to a singer whose album I bought based on the one heart-wrenching song of his my Master had included on a playlist he compiled for me. I worked on memorizing the lines I had written for my assignment. He fed me details and instructions for our meeting tomorrow, and sent me further and deeper into that state in which nothing exists but him.

I held on to enough to make me a safe driver.
I was a safe driver.
A safe driver owned by a very wise man
returning me to his service
in a way that will help heal us both
and put us back where we belong.