Everywhere we look there are fences, telling us to stay away or at least so I thought until I met a little boy, who wasn’t allowed to come out. He was fenced in; his parents didn’t want him to play with us.
We, the farm kids, were not good enough; he was supposed to mingle with his own kind.
That day we talked. He admired us, he wanted to join us but was forced to stay and watch; he felt lonely.
Fences and walls often have two sides, a pretty one, and an ugly, hidden one.
Which is which?
(Word Count: 99)
Friday Fictioneers are held by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Every week she gives us a new picture and hopes that our imagination will run wild and we are eager not to disappoint. It is a fun challenge. Thanks, Rochelle!
I am tired of walls, fences, and barricades, in case you can’t tell. 🙂