Audrey Resch
Stories (2/0)
Locked away
The alarm blares throughout the factory, signaling the end of my shift. Instead of the almost cheerful one that starts and ends our occasional lunch break, this one is harsh and angry. When I was younger, my dad would joke around and tell me it was just mad we were going home, but as a now seventeen year old who spends a good fifty percent of my waking day in the factory, it didn't feel as much of a joke. Shouldering my bag as I followed my co-workers out, I took one last glance at the camera above my station, the little blinking blue light an indication it was watching. I stifle the urge to show it my middle finger and hurried to catch up with my section. I didn't feel like being stopped by the Locked Army on my way out.
By Audrey Resch3 years ago in Fiction