No one remembered The Forgotten, the outcasts, that were tossed from our society as if they were garbage, not human beings, who did nothing wrong.
Those people, hidden behind the deep walls that surrounded our cities, were simply different, not fitting in with the norm of prescribed standards of look or form.
Placed beyond the walls, to defend themselves, no one ever spoke of them again, no matter if they used to be friends, or where children.
Our fold had no place for them, but in the quiet, lonely hours just before dawn, comforted by the luxuries of our culture, I wept.
Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2015
This post was inspired by this week’s Flash Fiction prompt “Forgotten”.