|Photo by Brigitte Werner|
Ernesto stood in the exercise yard of Peoples’ Reeducation Camp #27 and, for once, fixated not on but beyond the electrified perimeter fencing.
eeducation Camp #27,rcise yard of, for once, not
He stared for a very long time at the incongruous hulk of rusting metal that sat forgotten amongst the weeds in the proscribed zone beyond the fence. It served as a very palpable reminder to him that he had been and would, likely, for the rest of his life remain a detainee within the camp. For though he had participated in thousands of hours of both group and individual counseling, been subjected to extensive social indoctrination, and endured an ongoing regimen off the State, sifence a very ified perimeter fencing. behavioral modification, he knew his thought processes were still, by the standards of the State, flawed.
He had spent so many years behind the fence he could no longer remember how long he had been interred here and yet the object, nevertheless, evoked long-forgotten memories within him. It had been called an automobile or, more commonly, a car. It was a palpable reminder of a time when such things as unrestrained freedom of movement, unstructured recreational leisure and conspicuous consumption were the societal norms and had not yet been determined to be nined freedm of ”activities prejudicial to the maintenance of a productive and viable society.”
This story was written for the weekly Flash! Friday Fiction flash fiction writing challenge photo prompt.