There once was a boy who lived in a hole. There in the warm, musty darkness where roots embraced him, he hid from the bright world outside. He hid from the loud, the violent and crude. He hid from the harm they’d done.
They found him cringing that meekest of creatures, pushed in a corner like old fruit in a shopping bag. He mouldered. It was their duty to save him. Everyone wanted saving, didn’t they?
The men with their silver badges glittering, their colleagues in white all wide smiles and soft words, tore the boy from the roots he clung to; he screamed for them to stop. They carted him away like a stray dog to a pound and placed him in the knowledgable care of strangers. But they had no knowledge of him, this child from deeper regions.
He woke to crimson, some his, most theirs. Its stickiness reminded him of tree sap back when there were trees to weep. And he remembered. And he wept. The memory of those lost forests stung like the syringes thrown in his hole. His nice safe hole. He ran. They ran, too, those who still could.
Out in the savage daylight, he made a decision. The little lost boy with pain in his eyes made a promise. He’d dig deeper. He’d burrow like a mole. No one would find him again. Once upon a time was one once too many, his mother used to say. Before they took her and all that was green and blue, too.
Richard M. Ankers - Storybook 
Great little piece. Really enjoyed!
Thank you 🙂
Haunting and sounds like a start to an interesting book.
It saved my head from exploding earlier today. I’m glad you liked it, Saadia. 🙂
Oh wow sometimes finding solitude in darkness is a good thing to me. I like it actually! 🙂 I love this image and your short story. 🙂
Thanks, Michelle. Seems odd me writing that because it’s blue sky at the moment. 😄
Oh but the gray skies always come don’t they? 😁 they both inspire I think gray and blue 😊
They’re blue today. 😄
Yay for blue skies. They are supposed to be blue here too. 😊😊😊
Fingers crossed.
Always 🙂
Interesting, Richard. One could look at it as a child taken to a mental institution, or rather, a man hooked on heroin, morphine. So many thoughts here.
I only had me thought, Dorinda, and that was to get it out of my head. Lol
A bit sad.