X-ray me and you would find my tags writ bright and boisterous, through skin and sinew down to the bone.
Sell out or survivor? Bones break, life happens; walk a mile in my Jimmy Choos goofyfoot before you decide.
I hit the 180, stopped my Caballerial short: the corporate cult has much in common with the streets. A change of costume, learn the lingo, practice your tricks; a bit of focus, it’s not so hard.
Now, I hide my vices deep underground, set in grey concrete – cold as stone. A woman with a past, take me on if you dare.
It’s all a game.
by F. E. Clark, 2015
(I wrote this short story in response to Micro Bookend's contest - where we were asked to begin a story with 'X*' and end it with 'game' - this along with the above photo prompt led me to write this piece of flash fiction. Delighted to hear that it came 3rd in the competition - the very kind comments from the judge can be read here.)