50 Word Stories – In Hallowed Halls

In hallowed halls we found them cowering like the frightened mice they were. Dark shapes with white-flecked collars, the clergy crumbled as our ravaged world burned. “Where’s your God now!” bellowed one unruly bystander. I would never forget their reply. As one, they stood and said, “He’s already here.”

AND

AND And though we promised And though we said And though we pleaded And the world denied We tried Yes, we tried And though our hearts broke And though we bled And though it pained us And the world laughed We tried Yes, we tried And though we left them And though we forsook them […]

Cometh the Rain (Part 5)

A dagger grin flashed from between crimson lips. He indicated to where the others couldn’t see right behind the sun catcher, to the summit of that blazing, reflected beam. The device, his device, burned heaven. An almost perfect match to his shed skin, the universe was no longer black but crimson.Our so-called saviour laughed and […]

Cometh the Rain (Part 1)

The sun hung like a golden bauble decorating a cerulean sky. Basking in the pleasures of its gleaming self, the celestial body shone and shone and shone regardless of our wishes, as if predicting what we below desired rather than asking the question. A constant Christmas, our personal star, our gift, blazed above with the […]

Through Eternity’s Curtains (Part 3)

We knew them as black holes. One such universal behemoth was bad, two, doubly, a wall of them, horrific. The great beasts sucked the colour from the sky like paint pots poured down multiple drains. The holes in space and time even took those angelic voices, wrenched them from the fabric of everything and stole […]

Always

I had flirted with the idea of immortality, who hadn’t, but discarded it with little further thought. When one was young, one dismissed such notions. When one grew older, in my case, much, then it required further attention. I had no need for a body; it had always been a disappointment. My brain required the […]

Broken

 We broke the night to reach a new dawn. That's what my father said, anyway. I'd rather we'd waited those extra few hours for nature to do its thing. It seemed like common sense. Unfortunately, we'd broken that, too.

50 Word Stories: Last of the Last

 Hope was the contents of a duffle bag buried by the sea. The last of the last, my child would be taken by the waves when they chose, not man, a restoration of life's balance. I turned my back on my past, our past and strode back into the desert.