Robert watches . . .

Each week Cyranny hosts the “One Minute Fiction” challenge where the “idea is to manage to type your story in a minute or less.” based on a photo provided as the prompt. Thinking before the minute starts and editing after the minute ends don’t count in the minute of writing.

This is an interesting challenge. Cyrano says it’s easy, but I can say after the fact that it’s a little more difficult than it sounds. The difficulty for me was typing and thinking of the mini story while also thinking about the minute time limit, and about when those 60 seconds would be up, and how many of them I had left, and when would the alarm I set on my phone ring to signal the end. My right brain was telling my left brain to shut up which it never does. Shut up. My brain never shuts up. But that’s another blog for another time.

Here goes . . .

Robert watches the birds. The dark birds on the other side of the window. On the other side of the electrified fence. The other side of life. Robert thinks about freedom, and he thinks about why he’s sitting where he’s sitting. He thinks until his head hurts about how he would change it if he knew how. The birds gather every morning and evening. Robert is here all the time.