Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

A quote: “Knowledge of the past and of the places of the earth is the ornament and food of the mind of man.” ~ Leonardo da Vinci

I’ll start with a story …

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She had heard the villagers’ whispers, listened to their warnings. She was not deterred. Yet the sight of the stone rocked her, all at once familiar and enigmatic; ancient beyond reckoning and carved with shallow channels and catch basins.

Oh, the villagers held dark suspicions of what had filled those depressions. They kept their distance and posted wards on their lintels.

The setting sun, its light a deep gold, and the first moon rising, silvered pink a faint glow. Her hands rose up, cupped, and the combined light pooled there, heavy liquid, spilling over into the first basin.

It begins.

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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe stock, standard license

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6 Comments
  • GWB says:

    No, dear, that is not what they mean by a “raised-bed garden.”

    Dang, 87 words short. 😉

  • Politically Ambidextrous says:

    The ancient temple stood as a testament to the long history of sacrifice. Here, over the eons, short-term loss was exchanged for the hope of long-term gain. Or at least, hope against even bigger losses. One never knew for sure, but it was better than doing nothing.

    In the distance stood the taller temple of investment. The practitioners here also exchanged short term loss. However, in this cult, it was exchanged for the expectation, even the promise, of long-term gains. The hedges around the temple helped mitigate the unthinkable.

    The distance between the temples was much farther than it appears.

  • Navig8r says:

    PA,
    Like! 🙂

  • Navig8r says:

    “You had to fiddle with those controls when you don’t know what you’re doing! Where are we? When are we?”

    “About several centuries after the collapse of the civilization that built this.”

    “A presumptuous lot to put a toll booth on a mere goat path.”

    “Not then, I’d say. More like six mini-shrines selling lesser god trinkets to the pilgrims going to that main temple on the skyline.”

    “So, they broke into factions and fell apart. Fred, you’re the archaeologist. Chime in. Who won?”

    “The goats. It’s their path now and their dung that forms the soil on the roof.”

  • Cameron says:

    The man smiled as the sun began setting. “People would line for miles to come here. It was sacred and even in the worst of all wars, it remained untouched.”
    I nodded. “It’s impressive how the majority of the building is still standing. Good architecture and a good caretaker.”
    “Don’t suppose you’re here to make an offering and ask for my intercession?” he asked hopefully.
    I handed him a beer and opened it. “No. But no reason I can’t be nice.”
    He accepted my offering gladly. And I took the bottle with me so as not to leave a mess.

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