© Janet Webb

FridayFictioneers (#FF)

This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

I’m the figure on the stone. Naked and exposed, or sleeping my days away.

She takes me from this room only to see Dr. Cullen. She says I’m too frail. She says I must stay here. She says it’s for my own good. She says she doesn’t have time to take me to the garden.

She doesn’t understand. My brain works, but this damned body won’t cooperate with it anymore.

Yesterday, she brought me the jar of fairy lights. She said I could pretend they were stars or fireflies.

I pray for the dark.



4 thoughts on “#FF: The star still burns

    1. Me too. So sad when the quality of life is gone and young(er) people don’t understand that there’s still a person inside the broken body yearning for attention and love. Thanks for stopping by, Sandra.

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