This is a one-hundred word story I wrote.
It was the worst day of his life, a profoundly sad realization. People said that the truth set you free. But truth was pain. A sudden, immortal guilt.
He wanted to be like those at the top, the world leaders who sculpted awareness to their own needs. But he could not. Truth made you a slave to your conscience, not a master.
He looked out at the narrows, tottering on muddy feet. The tidal pull was fierce. The entire ocean struggled to breathe. Selfishly, he threw the red cap into the crosscurrents, not waiting to see it float or sink.