No more climbing, no more digging. No more dying. Neither the first nor the last, she walked because the radio voices said she could. Because the music was calling, her friends were yelling, and the crowd was laughing for reasons they could not explain.
As the singing, the cheering, and the scattered clanks of hammers and chisels softened behind her, she wandered. She finally noticed the sour smell of cabbage she had lived with all her life, because it was gone.
The cars changed. Buildings changed. Even the walk signals changed -- chubby, charming men with brimmed hats replaced by blunt icons of order in a city with so many other reasons to be happy.
No more Stasi. No more fear. No more simplicity.
From then on she embraced the imperfect rewards of freedom.
She walked from gray into color.
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No more Stasi. No more fear. No more simplicity.
From then on she embraced the imperfect rewards of freedom.
She walked from gray into color.
{Get 151 word stories on Twitter}
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