The Prison

She placed her hands on the cold wire of the fence and felt the dew tickle her palms.

“Please move away from the fence, Ma’am. Thank you.”

The guard had moved a step from his usual place, towards her. She turned around to him and smiled. And continued leaning onto the fence.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. Please stand back.”

It was funny how formal he was being. She wondered what stopped him from just shouting, ‘Get outta there, you freak!’. Must be the uniform. She also realized she was enjoying this little rebellion of sorts.

“And what if I don’t move back? You’ll shoot me?”

Read on…

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