No One Plays Here Anymore

It was summer and no one played here anymore — not like they used to. Gangs had decamped to hot street corners, waiting, straddled on bikes, to upheave convenience stores two at a time; they ambled aimlessly with digital appendages, and conversed on kerbsides, abbreviating their emotions with rapid fingers; or else they obliterated boredom with drink and rage until the rage imploded and touched someone else’s life. After they had stalked him from a distance, the exorcism of boredom was filmed, uploaded, and soundtrack with rallying calls of joy and laughter; Keith’s unread newspaper had escaped its own folds and lay like loose sheets soaking his life away — turning his memory into another story; senselessly everything blackened, Keith’s world silenced itself as the sun continued to shine and the birds sing in the park where no one played.

© 2017 The Wasted Love Song
In response to: Three Line Tales, Week 73
Image by: Christian Widell

Many thanks to Sonya for organising Three Line Tales.


5 Replies to “No One Plays Here Anymore”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s