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| PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields |
These days I am followed by whispers wherever I go. Surreptitious glances cast my way and knowing
looks exchanged.
‘What is the truth?’ they ask.
‘Why did you keep it hidden for so long?’
The air is thick with accusations that are dense like the
morning fog.
I built walls around myself the day innocence died. Brick by brick I built an impenetrable
fortress around my fears, feelings and emotions.
They ask for details and mock me for remembering them.
***
Word Count : 100.
It's time to visit the old stone house for another week of the Friday Fictioneers.
It's time to visit the old stone house for another week of the Friday Fictioneers.
I am going for two submissions this week. The second one can be found here -> Bachelor Prince
To read other stories by the Fictioneers this week click here
I'd love read what you think about this post...
Powerful metaphor.
ReplyDeleteThanks Iain.
DeleteI like where you took this
ReplyDeleteI am glad you liked it.
Deletethe day innocence died, sounds very sad, and reading through the lines, grim. But a good piece
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comments.
DeleteBuilding wall may help hide one from accusations, but accusations would not end. Best is to confront the accuser at a time of your choice.
ReplyDeleteSometimes trauma stops you from doing what may sound logical later.
DeleteA prisoner of guilt but not all are. However, hopefully, some day the power and connections may not protect any longer. Jilly, Sugar on the Bee.
ReplyDeleteTrue many get away with it. Hopefully there is a change on the way.
DeleteThis is the better of your two stories this week. You do a really good job of imagining the feelings surrounding an abused woman when she is finally able to confront her abuser.
ReplyDeleteThanks Penny, the other was a light hearted treatment whereas this was a more serious attempt.
DeleteHer condemnation of her tormentor in the last line is profound. Nice job.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jo, I am glad you liked it.
DeleteWell done, Subroto.
ReplyDeleteThanks Dale.
DeleteDear Subroto,
ReplyDeleteWell written metaphor for where so many of us. "I am a rock...and a rock feels no pain..." Good job as always.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelle I am glad you liked it.
DeleteI think this is the life of many after a war...
ReplyDeleteThanks Björn, it could be akin to a war too.
DeleteWonderful description of that process. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThanks Linda.
DeleteVery powerful.
ReplyDeleteThanks Lisa.
DeleteA very topical take in today's time especially India. Cannot decide which one I like better!
ReplyDeleteThose incidents were at the back of my mind. Thanks for your comments Dahlia, I am glad you liked them both.
Deletethis is one of your best. darn, i wish i could be half as good as you. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the compliment plaridel I think you are pretty good yourself.
Delete