Daily Writing Blurb

Prompt: The fence was ten feet high, smooth as glass and black as tar. We spent every lunchtime pressed against it, straining to hear through the cracks.

Some claimed they could hear the voices, murmuring, whispering, muttering. Some claimed they could make out the words: "Doom is near! Danger! Death!" But they were the troublemakers, the sensationalists, the attention-seekers, and the wannabes. If they could truly hear the words, they wouldn't be so inclined to repeat them.

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