He stole me.
He reached inside, breached the battlements, and stole me.
Took my heart, my body, my soul and stole me away.
Stole me away from here, from there, from then, from now.
I am his contraband.
—–
Here is my latest entry – in poetic form – into the lovely Lillieโs Five Sentence Fiction, where she has provided this photo for our inspiration. Please do visit here to read the entries from other writers who love to keep it short too.
Something so beautifully possessive about that last line ๐
Thank you! I swapped and changed it a few times to try to get the right feel. That’s what I was aiming for ๐
Yes I know what you mean. I do that too with my micro stories. Just tweak until I get the feel right.
Sometimes, it can drive me crazy! ๐
wow ” I am his contraband” that says so much and at the same time leaves much to the imagination, Fabulous!
Thank you so much, Mandy. I’m glad you enjoyed it ๐
Great little piece – love the feel and flow – and as so many have noted: the last line – the word – “contraband” – it really has power – and it *does* open the door to wondering, who is this stolen person, why them, and what’s the “illegality” of the situation.
Really great effort ๐
Thank you so much ๐
Love the intensity, even passion. Very powerful. Great stuff.
Thank you! And thank you for reading.
Very powerful, his possession of her. x
Thank you, Lizzie.
Lovely take on the prompt. Who would’ve thunk it ๐
Thank you – well, I do try to look at things sideways, if you like…
This is amazing…and the “contraband” really illuminates the fiction in so many ways.
Thank you, Lorri. I was aiming for darkness, for possession. The sinister side (as I often do).