She and I sat together and watched the last electronic sunset flicker and die. Bright orange towers of sparks; fire, catching. Screaming mobs illuminated in soft pinks and yellows. We held hands as the ceilings caved in: great domes of earth, filling the pockets of air we'd so defiantly carved out.

We thought they’d built us a paradise, but painted prisons still have bars.

We’re breaking free.

# # #


Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.