The Man

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again! This week, our photo prompt is the image above, by © J Hardy Carroll.

It could be worse.

At least there is a toilet and The People bring me food and water.

Sometimes, The Man comes alone.

I don’t like what he makes me do, but all I have to do is lay there.

Damn, does he ever stink!

Once, he brought me a pair of pretty-pink shoes (just to look at), since I’d “done good.”

I quit hoping someone would find me. The house is on a worn path, hidden by huge, gnarled oak trees.

I’m shackled, but the chains allow me to walk almost to the gate —

almost,

but not

quite.

 

r.nial.bradshaw