I do not expect this to be the land of milk and honey…

but to be completely disregarded and dismissed… as if my life had no worth at all… Like I just don’t count. They see my sloven appearance and don’t want to waste their precious resources on me. Did it ever strike them that perhaps it is because they do not spare their precious resources for me that I am so? No… never… not even a flutter of remorse or pity.

Immigrant…. Go back where you came from.

Really? During a lockdown? No buses, no trains, no planes, just that abandoned balloon out on those abandoned grounds

An idea takes seed. Maybe if the winds are just right…

photo from Nicolae_Balt at Pixabay.com


Written in response to Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #122

Using word prompts from FOWC (flutter), Word of the Day (grounds), Your Daily Word Prompt (sloven), The Daily Spur (milk), Ragtag Daily Prompt (seed).

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