I scaled a fence today. It was a fence that had stood for generations. I know not if it was built to keep people in or out. I didn’t question the fence; I climbed it because it was there.
Hand over hand I climbed, fingers in the chinks, ignoring the pain and rust. It was heavy and high and the top was covered in spikes. Inside the fence I found no treasure, no secrets, no answers.
Pull down the fences, I say. Pull them down and you’ll see: in or out, the two sides are not so different.
Dedicated to all those affected by the 22 March 2017 events in Westminster.
Written for Friday Fictioneers.