I was trapped.
Wherever I looked, dense walls of brown, matted bush.
I spied an opening. Wet, leading to a red tunnel.
I had to penetrate for release.
As I approached it closed. Again!
That mocking laugh!
Her face swam into view. My beautiful...teasing...adulterous wife.
She smiled. Double.
One horizontal, sub-nasal, revealing white teeth.
One diagonal, frontal, ragged, revealing splintered white bone.
I jolted into another reality. Sweating, hyperventilating.
Guilt gnawing my soul like ravenous rats.
The padre looked up, fingering his beads.
Keys rattled, the cell door swung open.
"Are you ready to meet your maker?" asked the priest.
Writing Prompt |
In 100 words, or less, write a short story--not necessarily a flash-fiction, though it could be--on the theme/subject/topic of 'prisoner'. It could be literal or metaphoric. |
Author Notes
A death row dream.
frontal = forehead.
|
|