It was the first time he walked the city streets in over a decade. The streets, though crowded with cars and new shops, still seemed familiar to him. He stopped before the crosswalk and stood, watching the red hand blink. The cars waiting for the light to turn green watched him. Some thought, “go, you idiot,” while others thought, “did this guy just crawled out of a cave? Doesn’t he know he can cross?”
The truth was, after over a decade in a monastery, he had become used to the quiet. It was in silence he was able to meditate and pondered upon his accomplishments. It was in silence he was cured of his anxiety. However, the minute he stepped into the city, his ears began ringing. “Make it stop!” He prayed but the noise seemed to had grown louder.
As he stood in that corner, panting as he felt the ground shook beneath his feet. He lowered his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and hands over his ears, “Take me back, I’m not ready.”
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.