Hope, they call it, the fortress city behind the wall. Impenetrable unless they let you through the checkpoint. Lines of cars have been sitting there for as long as I can remember, but they haven’t moved in months. Occasionally, the guards still let a few people in, but not as often as before. I was one of the few to make it through the gates shortly after the Scourge. Once I learned what they do with outsiders, I hid. I’ve been trying to find a way back out ever since. Hope is the last thing they should call this place.
The grass is always greener on the other side. And then you make the mistake of going to the other side.
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
Click here for stories from the other Fictioneers.
June 21st, 2017 at 4:14 PM
A border is difficult to cross in both directions.
June 21st, 2017 at 6:22 PM
Indeed it is.
June 21st, 2017 at 5:01 PM
When we cross a boundary it is always a leap of faith
June 21st, 2017 at 6:24 PM
Agreed. Perhaps he’ll find a way out eventually and warn the others. Though they probably won’t listen.
June 21st, 2017 at 5:51 PM
That really is being caught between the proverbial rock and the hard place. Well done.
June 21st, 2017 at 6:25 PM
Thanks, Rochelle. He’s definitely in a bind. That’s for sure.
June 21st, 2017 at 6:26 PM
When coming to a fork in the road, take it. I guess the main character will get out soon enough. Nice job, Adam!
June 21st, 2017 at 6:30 PM
A locked door is a great story device, and whether we’re locked out or locked in our hearts beat the faster
June 21st, 2017 at 6:53 PM
I like where you took this. It’s very dark, with little hope but it sure makes one wonder what’s going on.
June 22nd, 2017 at 12:45 AM
I like what you’ve done here. It definitely sounds dystopian. People heading toward hope and then finding out it’s the opposite. Well done.
June 22nd, 2017 at 2:04 AM
I’m thinking they need to let in new meat occasionally. Literally.
June 22nd, 2017 at 4:06 AM
At first I thought sci-fi dystopia, then I thought it could equally be applied to many refugees around the world today. Thought-provoking stuff, nicely done.
June 22nd, 2017 at 9:12 AM
Maybe the reason it’s called Hope is because, once there, everyone hopes to escape. A good tale well told… and if I must admit a bit inspirational on the writing side. Walled cities always lead the mind on an adventure, don’t they. 🙂 ❤
June 22nd, 2017 at 11:34 AM
Oooooh, creepy! I love creepy 🙂
June 22nd, 2017 at 5:35 PM
I really liked this dark twisted tail. Very well written.
June 23rd, 2017 at 6:51 AM
I yet to find a city on the map named Hopeless, but I’m sure there are residents in such towns around the world who feel theirs should be called that. Strong writing, Adam.
June 23rd, 2017 at 12:45 PM
Ooo-errr! Certainly does sound hopeless. Nice one – if a little on the dark side…!
My story – ‘An empty bottle’
June 23rd, 2017 at 4:59 PM
Dark and desperate. Good writing Adam
June 23rd, 2017 at 9:32 PM
Well done and so true. Many an unhappy young lady has hopefully said “I do” only to discover she’s found the door to lifelong misery. Likewise some guys.
Your story reminds me of a description of the fall of Saigon, where people associated with the Yanks lined up outside the US embassy begging for a plane ride to anywhere else.
June 23rd, 2017 at 10:25 PM
Very cool story!
June 27th, 2017 at 8:36 AM
Uh, oh. I hope he makes it out. At least he’s been able to hide. Good writing, Adam. —- Suzanne
June 27th, 2017 at 8:49 PM
Are we coming, or are we going ?? Well written story.