
Cultivating the End
I am insect to them, confined to tunnels. Eyeless, I crawl along smooth corridors, sensing where stone is cool, sniffing the air, listening for jangle of keys — and the cries of my children.
I am queen of my species. Try as I might, I cannot stop my eggs from pouring forth. My captors wait… snatch and carry them away.
Do they understand my children will mature?
That their jaws will crush any obstruction?
That our carapaces protect against any hazard?
That they’ll come for me?
Do they know we shall inherit their planet?
That they cultivate their own end?
[100 words]
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host of Friday Fictioneers.


Lisa – what an intense atmosphere – I felt trapped in the dark with her, experiencing her confinement firsthand – scary but a breathtaking write🙌
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Ange, thank you. I can’t get the idea of people being locked up for effed up reasons out of my head.
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Yes it’s horrific
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Wonderful writing, Lisa! You described so well the terrifying feelings of being locked up.
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Thank you, Nancy. I feel for every prisoner wrongly imprisoned.
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Truly horrific. From many angles.
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Sandra we are our own worst enemies :(
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In answer – I think not! Love this!
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Thanks, V!
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Love this Li.
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:) <3
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Cockroaches.
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Very well could be, James!
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