“What is that, Pria?”
“Freedom. Marlo. It’s freedom.”
The view was amazing, in an odd sort of way. Familiar yet definitely new and unknown.
Mother spoke of this often, recalling tales of our long-forgotten youth before the war. Before we were forced into the mountainside.
“It looks different. A lot different from what Mother described.”
Marlo was right. Mother talked about bright skies and sunshine. Lush, green forests with trees as tall as the sky. Birds soared through the sky. Deer and squirrels roamed freely.
This was not it. Dense fog blanketed the landscape. Vegetation was few and far between. No squirrels. No deer. No signs of life.
While we were hidden inside the mountain, Mother’s description of the outside world sounded like paradise. Now that the war was over, what remained was anything but.
“Is this really freedom, Pria?” We both looked around.
“It doesn’t feel like it, Marlo.”
Word count: 150
This is my offering for 109th Challenge of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. Many thanks to Yarnspinner for this week’s photo prompt. To read more amazing flash fiction, click here.