The caravan pulled over to take a lunch break and to stretch our legs. The commune was still a day’s drive. I would send mom a postcard before we arrived. She worried too much. I was 18 now and perfectly capable of making my own decisions. There was much more to life than rules and societal restrictions. I was determined to be free; to be myself, to love, to enjoy nature and to survive without the city’s oppressive ways. Smog and crowds and laws were claustrophobic. She would do well with a bit of fresh air and free love herself.
– Written for Splickety Publishing Group Bolt Flash Fiction: Strike 37 Photo Prompt. WC 100
Image was provided through Splickety from Creative Commons.