Photo by Qasim Malick on Unsplash
Watching the world walk by is nothing new. Malik held up the fence at the sector’s edge monitoring those going from home to work, looking for discrepancies. Behavior changes, new faces, different groupings, someone arriving late or showing up too early. The “haves” relied on him and others like him to keep their “staff” in line. Unlike most in the queue below, he rarely dealt with the privileged directly, staying on this side of the fence.
Carefully ignoring “silver-trim” for the fifth day running, he wondered how long he would tolerate his life. Noor, the poor buffoon, jogging up late again gave him an excuse to miss the woman he carefully wasn’t seeing. Malik jumped down the thirty feet from the fence posting, cybernetic legs easily handling the landing, a gift thanks to the combination of landmines from the war and the “haves” who arranged the war and still wanted his skillset.
(words 151; first published July 3, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)
Fence Post Series