I Steal Mangoes

I Steal Mangoes
I stealthily crept outside the stone building that held us. I would be whipped if I got caught. I reached the Mango tree and climbed up quickly. I plucked a number of mangoes and stuffed them into my pockets. I climbed down and ran as fast as I could from the stone prison holding us children before deportation. I might still get caught and end up being sent back to my homeland. There I would be sold into slavery as I belonged to the minority community.  But I would have at least tasted a few ripe Mangoes by then.

No of Words: 100 
 
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 
 
Author’s Note: This post has been written in response to the Photo Prompt provided as part of Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

4 Thoughts to “I Steal Mangoes”

  1. At least he/she won't go hungry…

  2. At least you have the mangos. Others may not be as lucky.

  3. There's a lot more going on here than mangos. Slavery in all its ugliness, whether enslaved by one's own race or sold elsewhere.

  4. Great piece. A lot packed into this piece.

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