By N. Iris
The soldier girl is a dancer. Alone in his damp concrete cage, the prisoner has nothing to do but watch her as she paces the hall, rifle slung over her back.
Her footsteps are barely audible, light as air. Each movement is elegant, as though she performs for more than the caged and hopeless. As though she wears white tulle under bright stage lights with roses scattered by her feet.
She’s as hopeless as him, a prisoner in her own right, a caged bird with clipped wings. The rifle looks wrong in her hands as she aims it at his head.
Evocative piece with a great last line.
Excellent disturbing imagery. Well done!
A reminder that every soldier / warrior had a previous life and, hopefully, a future one when they hang up the uniform. Nicely done!