Bottled Spirits

Bottled spirits

I know what you think. Same like all these… Same like me, fore I come here. Fore I learn. I think same like you. Yes.

Flasks. Flasks, each with spirit. Spirit calling, calling, pleading: Oh! Release me! And you think: I free this. This. You think: Spirit glad be free. Him reward me. Make me – what – brave? Yes? Joy-filled? Rich? Yes?

No! You wrong! Spirit give some, but him take too. Take from you heart. What in you heart? You know? Maybe spirit give you joy. Maybe give you woe. Bad woe. You weep, maybe you want die. Spirit in them flasks not what you think.



© TheSupercargo

The above was written for the Friday Fictioneers flash fiction forum. The prompt: a photograph of a well-stocked bar.

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