Prompt: Ivory | Genre: Autobiography (not mine!) | Word count: 100 words
It’s so quiet. Too quiet. Not even the dull sound of people
murmuring. I never thought I’d miss that.
It surely is an all-time low, even for me.
They used to come, peer at me through the glass walls, talk in
awed tones. It’s almost as if they found me... beautiful. Strange. They killed
my body. Defaced me. How is that beautiful?
The silence is killing me. See what I did there?
Sigh. My jokes aren’t funny anymore. People jokes, now that’s
funny. I heard the guards whisper about some virus. I wonder if the joke is
really on them.
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