Flash Fiction: Train to Minesville

The train sounded its final whistle.

Slowly, it began chugging out of the station. I looked on with tears in my eyes, as my friends waved goodbye to me. I waved back until they went beyond my horizon. My parents told me that I would be going to a place called Mineville, and that it was nothing like my village. It was a huge city where people could dig out gold with their hands. That’s what my parents told me, but I don’t believe them. I saw them taking money from the people in the black suits.

They’d sold me…

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers 26th July 2019


  1. How sad. It was bad enough that he was leaving his friends and family, but the ending was a shock. I’m wondering now about all the possible explanations for what his parents have done, and where he’ll end up. Your story raises lots of questions.


  2. How terrible people are in such a horrid condition they sell their children. It’s doubly terrible for the children. Child slavery often begins with extreme poverty. I hope someday it can be stopped. A well-written, heartrending story, DN. —- Suzanne


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