One day, not long from now, when we all have done the deeds that brought us to this point and time, we will be the forgotten ones.
When a war, we could have stopped, swallowed us whole, and the creation of more and more wasteful things, has taken over – the machine rising above men.
It is my sincerest wish, that this day will never come, but as I overlook what was once peaceful skyline of New York, streets burning, buildings crumbling, and people hurting each other over a slice of bread, I know we have already forgotten how to be human.
Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2015
This post was inspired by this weeks Flash Fiction prompt : “Forgotten”.
No matter how many times I have tried to explain, you don’t hear me. You only see the reflection of who you think I am, a far cry from the true me, my essence. Even when you speak about me to others, it is hard for me to hear, the irritation impossible to hide, for you share not whom I am, but whom you would like me to be. Can you even hear me? While you share your stories, I sit here, waiting for the moment to escape, the moment where I am free to be seen as myself.
Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014
This Flash Fiction was inspired by the Daily Prompt “Leftovers” and the Flash Fiction Prompt “Irritation“. It is also inspired by a conversation I had with my daughter. Often times we do not see the ones we love as the person they truly are, but through our own imperfections and flaws, or as we want them to be, missing out on discovering the true beauty of the person standing in front of us.