Freewrite: board

"Where are we going?"
I had something in my stomach. I could feel the dew getting up to my trousers, past my shoes. Soggy trousers and wet socks. The blindfold was tight, but I could make out bits and pieces – indistinct blurs that showed where the sun was, and where the bright patches were. We were going west, away from the sun.

It was a long way to walk, but maybe it just felt long. I stubbed my foot on a rock and fell forward a bit, but Enric was there to catch me. He put his arm on my elbow and steadied me. Non-verbal communication: "I know, I know". He understood.

Of course Enric understood; he had been through this before. The Reeducation Board was going through the list alphabetically. Enric Anderssen; he was one of the first.

But now, Enric was a different person. He was probably still Enric inside, but he seemed quieter, more reserved. I wonder whether I will become quieter. Or whether I will stay the same.

The ground changed from dirt to something hard and flat, pavement or concrete. My rope-soled shoes made a soft, wet, smacking sound.

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This is a five-minute freewrite based on the prompt board.

A suitably unnerving photograph taken near Tour au Diable in Metz, France