Harnessed to my glider, I linger for a moment. I inhale the scent of my gilded cage. Lavender and salt. My custodian is shouting but I have locked the door:
‘I’ll give you anything you want. Gold and pearls. Stocks or options. Anything’.
I know the only thing I want, he cannot give me.
‘How about my freedom and divorce?’
‘I’ll give you children’.
I leave my balcony. I fly. I flee. I scream:
‘Goodbye New York!’
The skyline fades for toxic marshes of New Jersey. It doesn’t matter, once I signed the prenup I was tethered to his gold.
This picture caused me some problem, but once I started to think of jumping with a glider from the house, the story wrote itself.
Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100 word stories to the same picture every week. Rochelle who has just came out with a new book (Congrats Rochelle), leads and guides us, and primarily set the standard (very high).
December 7, 2016