FFfPP — Does It Matter Anymore?

I’ve lost track. How long have I been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Could it be years? I don’t know.

But does it matter anymore?

Is this a prison I’m in? An asylum of some sort? Did I commit a crime? Am I insane? I don’t remember why I’m here.

But does it matter anymore?

I don’t even know where I am, as I have no recollection of how I got here. or even where I’m from.

But does it matter anymore?

My name. What is it? I don’t seem to know my name or who I am.

But does it matter anymore?

I see people through the small porthole, beyond the bars. I call out to them, but they don’t hear me. Or choose to ignore me.

But does it matter anymore?

Am I Dead? Am I a ghost? Is this Hell?

It doesn’t matter anymore.

Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: Dynamic Wang on Unsplash.

18 thoughts on “FFfPP — Does It Matter Anymore?

    • Fandango April 7, 2022 / 6:06 am

      I remember that show, but only barely.


  1. BriannaMarieWrites April 7, 2022 / 3:18 pm

    You really captured how I immediately saw this prompt, but the way you went about it is haunting to me in a good way. Lovely job!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fandango April 7, 2022 / 4:07 pm

      Thanks for your very kind words. I’m pleased that you liked it.


  2. leigha66 May 11, 2022 / 2:29 pm

    I really like how your wrote this. Never too long of one thought, jumping to the next, looking for anyone, alone… it was very much like anxiety.

    Liked by 1 person

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