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| Roche |
Three lines of barbed wire stopped every lost wanderer
from invading the premises of the house. The golden wheat field sharply
contrasted with the old house. No green leafy trees, no lively animals, no one
was in sight. The blue sky splashed with flaky white clouds was a poor match to
the scarcity of color on the ground. The
owner, a man who paradoxically fought his loneliness by pulling out a shotgun
each time someone walked past the house and waving it through the window,
threatened to shoot whoever stepped closer. The villagers had gotten used to
him, to the man who built an island of difference at the top of the hill
with three lines of barbed wire around it.
Oh Gosh, does that remind me of some of those "friendly" secondlife fellows!!
ReplyDeleteIt sure does! And, as much as I respect people's privacy, I do tend not to like those security orb things in SL. Thanks for leaving a comment.
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