I never knew infinity was relative.
I thought that traces could be buried deep in archives, that fraud was safe, and accountants never could be charged.
But they digitized the archive, and gradually computers found the evidence of my evasions. My signatures and petty theft was turned to nighttime warrants and escapes.
I have spent my funds on plastic surgery, on false identities and moving from one safe-house to another. I ran for freedom and I lost it all.
I’ve built a prison for myself, and now I’m ready to give up.
Please lock me in; please set me free.
The picture lent itself to tax-evasions and financial crime. I hope it make sense, but I think there are many cases where people doing financial crimes turn themselves in finally.
Friday Fictioneers is a wonderful blogging community managed by Rochelle-Wisoff Fields.
Freedom is just another word for nothing left to loose.
August 26, 2015