50 Word Stories: Featherless

I'd seen it rain water, heard it rain buckets and told tales of it raining cats and dogs; it'd never rained feathers. White feathers the size of surfboards floated to earth to pile like the world's gentlest snowdrifts.
"Now, they're all dead," said gran.
I didn't dare to ask what.

17 thoughts on “50 Word Stories: Featherless

  1. Heaven is vacated? I can claim squatters rights, right?
    Gosh, I was quite taken back when it eventually dawned on me what was afoot.
    They may not be up-to-date with the latest technology, but grandparents do in fact know everything.

  2. Oh, this one is really…ok, lost out of words.
    Angels, geese, pillows, pigeons…yes, all possible. As long as we don’t start seeing flying pigs around, I think we’re good, hihi

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