No wonder

I’ve been called a gold digger. I would prefer diamonds anytime over those wretched men with bloated egos. And yet, they kowtow to me – for satisfaction of ownership, and completing their construction.

My biggest achievement in life has been digging out the truth – shallowness in apparent depth, artificial roots of huge trees, fancy construction on barren soil, worship of structures rather than spirit.

No wonder, they despise me – that piece of outdated equipment which has outlived its utility, the piece only a junk seller would buy. They hate me because I know so much.

No wonder, they fear me ….

(100 words)

 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers