‘Good to hear your voice…’

‘Yeah! Yours as well…’

‘Does it bother you?’


‘Talking to me?’

‘No! Better than the silence.’

‘Same here.’

‘Had your tea?’

‘Yes! You?’

‘Having it as we speak…’

‘Alright! Until later.’

Static filled the tent that had been his home for the past six years. The barbed wire fence that marked the boundary between two countries stretched in front of him like a never-ending serpent.

He thought about his counterpart on the other side of the fence. He knew that they will never meet. If they did, one of them had to die.

A very Happy New Year to my fellow Friday Fictioneers. This week’s prompt is from our resident fun-smith Russell Gayer. Thanks to Rochelle for being our gracious host every week. To read more stories, please head over here


24 thoughts on “Borders

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  1. Kind of reminded me of the WWI story of the soldiers calling a truce for Christmas Eve, singing together, playing football. lUntil the generals called, and the lead began to fly again, new-found friends worrying they were about to kill each other.


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