Sunday, December 06, 2015

The Refuge

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
He closed his eyes, clenched his fists and wished for the portal to appear.  When his eyes opened, the dark doors set in the white ivory frame had materialised as always.

 Behind him lay the treacherous bushland with danger in every step that he took.  The scars on his body a grim reminder of the thorns encountered daily.

He stood mesmerised by the lights and the gentle humming of the robotic cars.  It always remained a temporary refuge and how he wished he could stay forever.


“I found the boy inside the cupboard Sir; this time we were too late”.
***
Written for Friday Fictioneers (episode 100). Word Count : 100

So now that the hundredth post is over, here is another one for this week.

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 
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6 comments :

  1. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields1:52 am

    Dear Subroto,

    There's a very sad story in playing in the background. Well done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Subroto2:28 am

      I think so too. Thanks for your comments Rochelle.

      Delete
  2. draliman6:12 am

    Poor lad, trying to escape just for a while.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Subroto2:30 am

      An escape from reality is many times the first refuge. Thanks for your reading and commenting Alistair.

      Delete
  3. Russell7:19 am

    I'm reminded of children who get trapped in abandoned refrigerators/appliances and can't get out. Sad.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Subroto2:31 am

      True that does happen. Thanks for your comments Russell.

      Delete

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