Sunday is the beginning of another weekly invitation from Alastair to open our imagination and tell the world what we see in his photo prompt. There is always several rich stories that flow from this interesting photographic offering. If you fancy a short adventure add your 200 words or less and join the fray.
I loved birds growing up in my home in the country. We had chickens, peacocks, turkeys and other sundry farm animals traversing the spread adding their piece to the cacophony of sound. To me it all equaled freedom, freedom from life in a congested metropolis that many of my school friends relished. To me being able to get out and cavort in the yard when I chose was a better endowment.
Now that was gone. I had been at the market, having reached the milestone of seventeen and finally receiving both mother and father’s blessing to retrieve the market goods alone. I had protested every day for the last two years that I was fully capable of doing it alone. I could handle the world I said.
Now the birds mocked not only me but the other girls confined in this room lit only by the small holes at the top of the wall inside our temporary home. I hear the men say slavery, trafficking and talk about all the money they would collect. At this point the sounds of my feathered friends were not reassuring, but biting.