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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

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 26th July 2019