101 Word Fiction - 007
The sadness hung like skins on a barbed wire fence. Like water moccasin trophies, wrenched from the depths of the henhouse. I used to get stress-relieving foam duckies from my workplace that were supposed to deal with this kind of thing. They never tended to work the foamy magic they were supposed to. Squeeze all you like, the irritation and pain were still there. It didn’t go away that easily. Thank the gods I’m not like that any more. Thank the gods I don’t feel like I did. The metal that encases me now is a blessing. I am the future.
© Bernard Klinke 2009
