Previous post
The history of human civilization is marked by the ruins of fragile achievements. Mother Nature is oblivious to our intentions as she relentlessly reclaims the things we declare timeless in our hubris. Yet, in each case of fallen humanity, it’s never her fault, is it? 100 words and this image are yours this Black Friday.
I’ll start with a story …
****************************************************
Momma Ann was ancient when I was born. I would cuddle next to her, when the only light was the fire, to listen to her stories.
The ruins in the distance, the forbidden places she whispered about.
“I was a little girl but I remember. There were soaring towers, places you could get food whenever you wanted. And the garments! Cloth soft as down, in any color imaginable.”
My own mother would glare at her. “You will bring us trouble!” she’d say. “You want a visit from the Truth Authorities?”
But I will remember. I will escape and go there.
****************************************************
Now, it’s your turn.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
featured image, cropped, from Pixabay CC0 license
Happy Thanksgiving, DC, belatedly, in your new Council Flat!
The sergeant opened his notepad. “So, you’re saying termites did this?”
“Yes sir, termites as big as squirrels chewing on the rafters.”
“Ma’am, I don’t think termites…”
“I don’t mean no ordinary termite. I mean termites as big as ponies, big as houses, with hand grenades for teeth. I seen ‘em trying to come in through the window…”
“Maybe you were dreaming…”
“No sir, I seen what I seen. They kept saying the same thing over and over “Allahu Akbar.” What do you suppose they meant by that?”
The sergeant closed his pad. “No idea ma’am. No idea at all.”
The man stood out from the crowd as the look of horror on his face at the destruction was feigned. As everyone jostled for position, he simply played out the part of bystander with an expert’s talent. He moved inside the building to “look for survivors” but he knew that there was none. The target was gone but orders were orders. He had to confirm beyond doubt.
I crept up behind him in a place with no witnesses. Before the knife hit home, he heard only two words from me.
“You missed.”
His body was just another in the pile.
4 Comments