Confinement

Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.

The brilliant light faded, and I lowered my arm to… a circus? Green grass, white tents flying multi-colored pendants, rides whizzing about, and blue sky with lazy clouds. The last cell I’d scoured couldn’t have been more different: burning stones ringed by lava. Here’s boundary was a rough, waist-high, wooden fence which couldn’t keep anyone in.

But which made an excellent perch. One Daven took full advantage of as he scarfed away at a bag of popcorn.

If Daven was here, then the boy, Trent, was too. I strode forward, my deliberate footsteps annoyingly muffled in the grass. Nevertheless, he held the bag out to me as I arrived.

“Popcorn?” he asked.

I shook my head. “This seems…” I gestured about collecting my thoughts. “Benign for a containment sphere?”

Daven shrugged, stopped, craned a finger into his mouth, and dug about. Withdrawing it again, he flicked a tiny golden bit into the grass. “Hulls.”

I waited, not patiently, but I waited, and he didn’t answer the question. “Why this? You could’ve created anything.”

“This is the little boy’s idea of heaven, and keeping people willingly is easier then forcing them.”

That fit Daven. “Where is he?”

I’d expected him the deflect the question, but he didn’t. “The merri-go-round.” Daven pointed.

Clambering over the fence, I hurried toward the ride.

“Good luck getting him to leave,” Daven called after me.

Trent’s eyes widened when spotted me coming. I slapped my hands over my ears as he wailed bloodily. Good luck indeed.

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