In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Lookin’ Out My Back Door, and Through the Window
Flash Fiction
I turned around and looked outside. This time I didn’t just observe, I saw what was there.
I saw the lush green meadows with the cows grazing in the pastures, not giving a care in the world as to went around them. They seemed so calm. At peace. I saw a field of corn as far as eyes could see. Crops which would one day feed my family and families of those I had never met. I saw my son, running back home from school as his school bus dropped him to the nearest road. He always seemed full of energy even after a complete day at school. Some day he might not need this farm, if he chooses a different profession than what I had been handed over. I saw my wife as she came out of the barn after feeding the chicken ready to greet our son as he ran up to the house.
I smiled. Things were perfect. Somebody probably didn’t like that.
I turned around again to look outside. This time I did not just see, I observed.
I saw a gray concrete building blocking my view to the outer world. A gray building called Dumonte Prison’s Block A. A gray building which believes I should contemplate about what I had done. About how I had killed my wife and son, a crime which I possibly could not have had the will to commit.
I saw for the one last time, as blood poured out of my wrist, the gray building turn into the green pastures as I slowly slipped into oblivion…
Gave me goosebumps!
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