Ponzi Gone Bad

This post is written for Sunday Photo Fiction. The challenge is to write a piece of fiction using ~ 200 words with the picture as your source of inspiration. My story follows the picture prompt.


He sits looking out of his cell at the guard passing by. Its been a long and strange trip from Queens, New York to here in Butner, North Carolina. A very long way from making that first $5,000 working as a lifeguard and installing sprinkler systems. Now he spends his time making name plates for desks and doors in the prison work shop. But in between he was worth billions. And he  had all those celebrity friends. Where are they now?

He was truly shocked when the judge set his sentence at 150 years. Looking down at this prison smock he sees the number 6727-054. If the justice system has its way he will be looking at this same number until November 14, 2039.

What a family he thinks. He blames his parents for his wayward ways. After all they did get away with their crimes. He thinks of his wife and how the government stripped her of a fortune. He thinks of his sons. Now there is a terrible story. Together they are the ones who turned him in. Stupid kids. They thought they were being so honest and look what it got them. One takes his own life and the other dies of a rare disease.

He looks up at his cell mate in his bunk. Hell, he thinks, he doesn’t even know the word Ponzi!


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