100-Word Fiction: ‘Sequences’

First it was what was written.

She will not look, she will not look. And get out of this city but once and for all. Yet where, where?

Then it was what was done in response.

Fleeing from the people who are everywhere, into their arms, out from their arms, delivered, how, how?

Then came the social divisions.

And where are her family now? Her colleagues? Cohabitants?

And then the dawning of night.

She realises her predictions are wrong, the enemy is not the enemy, she is entrapped. The mess they have made of this land.

It is not over.

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