Flash Fiction 10 - (Home)
(Home)
He thought about it now.
The low-grade rumble permeated every surface and transferred without loss through every contact. Right now as he stood in his cell (Your room), he felt the engines through the soles of his bare feet. The floor was padded in an attempt to reduce the tremor.
The padding was ineffective (You've fixated).
(Think of something else)
He remembered the night sky through the branches of the tree outside his bedroom window. He could stare at the winking stars and almost ignore the sounds of shouting and breaking glass below. He would watch intently for the streak of brilliant white or sometimes flaring emerald and make a wish—a demand—for escape.
One night the streak did not burn out. It came all the way down and landed in the clearing. The monsters (People, as we've told you before) invaded his home and killed his parents (Rescued you). Now they were taking him away from everything he knew. He crumpled to the floor and cried hot tears into his bent arm. He just wanted to go home (You are).
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