I already know what’s out there. I remember the wind in the grass, the whispers of the chaff, the subtlety of the waves lapping at the shore. He wants me to see what’s out there so I miss it, so I ache for the freedom he’s taken away, but he doesn’t know what’s in here. He has no idea what lurks in the shadows, and he’s never going to see it coming when it’s time.
*I wrote this in a Facebook Flash Prompt group run by the inestimable Dave Robison