windows to the soul

Ben returned home. He completed rehab. His fourth. He fixated on the screen and courtyard. His parent’s estate was opulent, “…yet the screen… the courtyard…” he queried aloud. He felt his sobriety rested on solving this mystery. “Why put a cheap screen in this house? Why eat facing a barren courtyard?” After several moments, he gradually realized he was looking at himself. The home’s opulence represented his rich kid façade; the screen, his ugly heroin addiction; and lastly the courtyard, his empty soul. “Benjamin, are you ready?” “Yes mother,” he called out, knowing this meal would be his last supper.


PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields