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| Found on Google Images, courtesy of freestockimages.org |
FLASH FICTION PROMPT
The walls are closing in.
So tight. So small. So thick.
I fear I’ll be squashed like a ripe autumn pumpkin, betwix walls of brick. Without a care and without a trick. They are old. They are grey. They have not lost their way. They stood here and waited for me.
How lovely for wonderful me.
I’m so excited–can’t hardly breathe!
The walls are crumbling and caving in and guess what?
Soon I will be free!
(c) Sara Harricharan