flash fiction from2014
“What is freedom?” she asked.
“It’s more than an absence of imperial domination,” he explained, eyes glowing in the dim lit cell.
“It’s something you must have inside, in your head, before you can live it, before you can give it to others. Some people think they are free, but they are the most bound of all, they are not even free in their thoughts.”
“Those that do the bidding of the masters?” she glanced down at the plastic cuffs securing her hands to the bench.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Was I free before they captured me?”
“No, for you were bound by fear of them. That is not freedom.”
“Where you ever free?”
“Yes, for a while I was, free of fear and free of them. I lived on an air ship. I hid in clouds and scattered pamphlets … I was free like the birds till they shot me…
View original post 277 more words